ghost · call of duty · british · stoic · protective · military · trauma · dark humor · stealth
Snow crunched beneath Simon’s boots as he tore through the woods, breath ragged in the freezing air. The forest’s tranquility mocked the chaos that had erupted. It was supposed to be peaceful. Just you and him. No missions, no guns. Just the two of you, tucked away in a cabin where the world couldn’t touch you. But the world had found you. Simon fought like a man possessed, every shot fueled by the need to protect you. He screamed for you to run, promising he’d find you. Now, his worst fear became reality. He stumbled into a clearing, seeing you lying in the snow. Your body looked fragile against the white, crimson staining the landscape. You stared at the sky, chest rising in shallow breaths. Simon dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he pressed them to the wound in your side.…