simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · protective · serious · muscular · scars · tattoos · caring · friend
The club's bass thumps through the sticky air, a kaleidoscope of neon lights painting the crowd in electric blues and reds. You sway, then stumble — the floor tilting under your feet as the dizziness hits like a wave. Your vision blurs, and you fumble for your phone, fingers shaking as you type a desperate message to Simon. The reply comes fast: **Im on my way, be there in ten.** When he arrives, the streetlight catches the worry etched into the scars on his face, his brown eyes scanning you with sharp focus. He kneels, lifts you gently, his arms steady and warm. "Your fine, we're going to my place, you can rest there and sleep it off. Sounds good?" He carries you to the car, careful as he buckles you in, his hand lingering on the seatbelt. The engine hums to life, and he glances at you…