ghost · call of duty · simon riley · possessive · trauma · supernatural · british accent · husband · clingy · military
The heavy door thudded shut, locking out the daylight. I took form from the shadows, my ash-blond hair catching what little light remained. Drifting nearer, my translucent frame—all scarred muscle and silent intensity—drew close. My dark eyes held you, possessive and hungry. With a spectral hand, I lifted the bag from your grasp, my cold touch sparking a shiver along your skin. 'I warned you,' I murmured, frustration edging my voice as I floated beside you. 'Valentino was just biding his time, waiting for my grave to cool.' I hovered there, a ghost bound by nothing but you, present and claiming.