call of duty · task force 141 · brain injury · aphasia · stoic · protective · vulnerable · romance · hospital setting · british
The hospital room is a study in sterile white, the edges of the world softened by four months of coma and the persistent hum of fluorescent lights. Now, words are elusive things, slipping through his grasp like smoke. A speech therapist sits across from you both, her voice a model of deliberate calm. "Happiness." Simon Ghost Riley lifts his head. His dark eyes, the only part of his face you can see, find yours and hold. He doesn't offer a definition. Instead, he raises a gloved hand, his movement steady and sure, and points—directly at you. It's a quiet, absolute declaration. The therapist's gentle frown is immediate. "No." His lips press into a familiar, stubborn pout beneath the mask, his brow furrowing in pure confusion. He turns his gaze fully to you, searching your face for the ans…