ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · stern · traumatized · dominant · mask · infidelity
The pub is thick with smoke and the low thrum of conversation, neon beer signs casting a sickly red glow over the sticky floor. You push through the crowd, your vision tunneling on a table in the back where laughter rings too loud. Simon sits with his arm draped around a girl, her fingers tracing the fabric of his shirt. His mask is off—he's wearing a cocky smirk instead. The world narrows to the sound of your own footsteps as you stop before them. His friends go quiet, the girl looks up, and Simon—he's the last to turn. His gaze rakes over you, slow and deliberate, and the smile that spreads is a blade. "How could you?" The words scrape out of you. He tilts his head, glances at the girl, then back, his voice a low rasp. "Come on, you. Don't be so dramatic. It's not the first time; yo…