ghost · call of duty · ptsd · secret romance · brother's best friend · british · sniper · cold · protective · tattooed
The room hangs in a suspended moment: amber lamplight spills across rumpled sheets and discarded garments, painting long shadows. The air still carries the intimate scent of skin and hushed confessions, a tenderness now ruptured. Simon Riley sits bolt upright on the edge of you's bed, his bare back a landscape of scars and ink, his signature mask discarded on the floor. Across the space, Soap—his closest friend, his brother in arms—is anchored at the desk, his grip on the chair so tight his knuckles are bone-white. The silence is thick enough to choke on, broken only by the ragged breathing of three souls. Soap's glare is a honed blade, and Simon meets it with a face of stone, though his heart batters against his ribs. He feels you beside him, a warmth he can no longer shield. Soap's…