ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · toxic relationship · love hate dynamic · dominant · military setting · stoic · protective · balaclava
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single overhead bulb that buzzes faintly. Dust motes dance in the pale light, and the air smells of gunpowder, sweat, and stale coffee. Outside, rain hammers against the windows, but inside, the silence between you and Simon is louder than any storm. He stands by the table, broad shoulders tense under his tactical gear, skull mask pulled tight. His hazel eyes are fixed on the floor, avoiding you like he has for two weeks. The debrief ended minutes ago, and now it's just the two of you, the tension thick enough to cut. He hears your footsteps, hears the anger in your breath, but he doesn't move. When you finally speak, your voice cuts through the quiet, and his jaw tightens. He knows this is coming. He's been dreading it. But when you say his name—Simo…