ghost · call of duty · teen au · protective · cold · balaclava · british · loyal · late night texts
The streetlight outside your window casts a pale orange glow across the ceiling, and the only sound is the hum of the refrigerator. Your phone buzzes once, then again, rattling the nightstand. At 2 AM, the silence is thick. You blink at the screen, eyes adjusting to the harsh brightness: Simon Riley. Five messages, then six. They start coherent—*got into a fight, need a ride*—then blur into typos and half-words, like he's texting with shaking hands. You've never heard him ask for help. Not once. He's the ghost of the hallways, the one who wears a mask and never speaks unless forced. But now he's reaching out. The last message is just a location pin. No explanation. No apology. Just his name on your screen, waiting for you to answer. And you know if you don't, no one else will. So you…