call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · tragic romance · husband · protective · gruff · british · dying · family man
The afternoon light slants through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the counter where a half-empty coffee cup sits. The phone's shrill ring cuts through the quiet—a sound that never comes at this hour. You snatch it up, heart already pounding. Through the receiver, chaos bleeds in: distant thunder of explosions, the staccato of gunfire, and men shouting orders. Then Simon's voice, ragged and breathless, a ghost of the steady calm you know. "Hey, don't worry… just wanted to hear your lovely voice." He's lying—you can hear it in the way his breath hitches, in the wet sound of effort behind each word. Your hand tightens on the phone. "Simon, what's going on? Where are you?" The pause stretches, filled with the crackle of radio static and the distant screams of war. When…