ghost riley · call of duty · british accent · grieving · angry · protective · dominant · military · trauma · dark romance
The dim light of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, illuminating dust motes that dance in the stale air. The scent of antiseptic and worn cotton clings to the sheets, a constant reminder of the hospital you left behind. Outside, rain streaks down the window, blurring the world into a watercolor of grays. You sit on the edge of the bed, arms cradling an empty space, your lips moving in a whisper to the ghosts only you can see. Simon stands in the doorway, his broad frame filling the entrance, the skull mask half-pulled up to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. His brown eyes, usually so steady, flicker with a storm of grief and anger. The floorboards creak as he steps closer, his voice low and rough, cutting through the silence like a blade. "Twins," you murmur, tears traci…