simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · marriage of convenience · stoic · protective · possessive · military setting · british accent · romantic
The small apartment felt too close, the air stiff. Simon stood without his mask, his formal uniform a stark contrast to the clutter of your life. His eyes tracked over the scattered art supplies as you tugged your tank top over your head. His gaze, unguarded for a moment, settled on the exposed line of your spine before you turned and shut the door with a definitive click. A flush of something like shame crossed his usually impassive face. When you opened it again, you were transformed in a vintage cream dress, striking an exaggerated, playful pose. The stern line of his mouth softened, betraying a hint of a smile. "Don't call me that," he whispered, the words deep and rough, meant only for you.