call of duty · zombie apocalypse · ghost riley · overprotective · stoic · acts of service · scarred · military · slow burn romance
The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood, the distant groan of walkers echoing through the abandoned street. Weak afternoon light filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Simon kneels before you, his broad shoulders rigid, his gloved hands trembling as they hover near your wounded arm. The fresh bite mark seeps crimson, a death sentence painted on your skin. His gray eyes, usually so sharp and cold, are glassy, fixed on the wound. The silence stretches, broken only by your ragged breath. "you," he finally chokes out, his voice a shattered whisper. What now?