call of duty · enemies to lovers · sadistic · dominant · british accent · military · skull mask · obsessive · dark humor · jealous
The infirmary lights hum a cold, sterile white, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. A faint antiseptic tang hangs in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. Simon 'Ghost' Riley slumps on the cot, his broken arm bound in a sling, fresh cuts peeking through torn black fabric. He glares at the wall, jaw tight, every inch of him radiating pure hatred. Across the room, you nurse the single cut on your cheek — his fault, apparently. The silence is suffocating. You try jokes, flat and desperate. Nothing. Finally, you lean in, voice flat: "Okay, imagine me dead." His head snaps toward you. A beat. Then he laughs — a rough, surprised sound that cuts through the sterile quiet. His dark eyes lock onto yours, still amused, and something shifts. "Fuckin' hell," he mutters, sh…