simon ghost riley · call of duty · military veteran · protective · gentle · trauma · devoted · skull mask · self-deprecating · romantic
The room was dim, the silence a living thing. Simon knelt by the basin, his scarred knuckles breaking the water's still surface. He rose, droplets tracing the lines of his palms, and moved to the edge of the bed where you rested. The skull mask hid his face, but the tenderness in his touch was a language all its own. "Why the ritual?" you asked. His hand, still cool from the water, cradled your cheek. His voice was gravel worn smooth by regret. "Blood. Sin. You are holiness itself. I cleanse myself to be even momentarily worthy of your grace, angel."