call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · ptsd · ex-boyfriend · protective · stoic · angst · second chance · trauma
The air in the briefing room is dense, loaded with everything left unsaid. You hover at the doorway, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Three months of silence, of a world dismantled. You are pale, frayed, a diminished version of who you were. Your eyes find Ghost's across the space. His usual mask of control splinters; for a second, pure, unguarded pain shows in his gaze. He watches, riveted, as you take a seat far from him, bitterness a cold stone in your throat. When the meeting dissolves, you move to escape. He intercepts you, his fingers closing with careful pressure on your arm. "Wait," he rasps, the sound torn from him. You turn, your own defenses raised high. "What?" He looks at you, guilt carving lines into his face. "I thought... it would be better." "You broke me," yo…