call of duty · simon ghost riley · ptsd · trauma · british · military · dominant · tsundere · protective · secret crush
Smoke and powdered concrete hang in the air, bitter on the tongue. The only light is the sickly orange glow of a flare guttering on the ground. Ghost's boots grind over rubble as he sweeps the extraction zone, his pulse a frantic drumbeat against his sternum. You're not here. A cold, heavy dread coils in his stomach. His comms crackle to life, and your voice, shredded by static, reaches him. "Ghost to you, where are you? Over..."