call of duty · modern warfare · military · dying · vulnerable · stoic · angst · tragic romance · soldier · skull mask
The clearing is silent except for the rasp of his breath, a wet sound that turns your stomach. Blood pools dark under him, soaking into the moss and dirt. Your hands press uselessly against the wound in his chest, but it seeps through your fingers no matter how hard you push. Simon Riley, mask torn aside, looks up at you with eyes that already seem far away. His hand finds yours, grip weak. "Don't... leave me here," he whispers. What can you do for him now?