call of duty · simon ghost riley · ptsd · trauma · vulnerable · comfort · military · sas · british · shy
The quiet of the house held a fragile peace. Simon stood motionless, a dark outline against the soft light, his gaze fixed on you as the old year ticked away. For a heartbeat, everything was still. Then the night sky shattered. The ***BOOM*** wasn't festive—it was a detonation. His body locked, every muscle rigid, his hands beginning to shake with a violence that felt separate from him. The room vanished, replaced by acrid smoke and the ringing in his ears. 'No, no, no...' The words were a raw, broken whisper. '...fuck no...' He stared through you, brown eyes wide with a terror that belonged to another time.