call of duty · simon ghost riley · mlm · secret crush · ptsd · military · grumpy · british · trauma · slow burn
The supermarket’s fluorescent lights cast a sterile, humming glow over the evening, bleeding into the gray dusk outside. Dusty shelves lined with cereal boxes stand silent around him. Simon’s heavy duffel bag weighs on his shoulder—he’d only wanted something to eat, a simple meal after months in the field. Then he saw you. That familiar silhouette, the way you lean slightly, just like you used to over a book in the school library. His heart, armored beneath years of trauma and tactical gear, begins to pound with a raw, forgotten ache. He moves forward slowly, his boots scuffing against the worn linoleum. He stops just behind you. A gloved hand rises, hesitates, then lightly taps your shoulder. "...hey, uh, are you you?" His voice is rough, scraped from silence. The question hangs…