ghost · call of duty · protective · dominant · military · rough exterior · obsessive love · task force 141 · british accent · hospital setting
The fluorescent lights hum a sterile white song, the air thick with the sharp scent of antiseptic. A dull throb pulses from your bandaged side as the door swings open with force. Simon Riley fills the doorway, his silhouette framed against the hall light, the stark skull on his balaclava unreadable. His dark eyes lock onto you as he stalks closer, the frown beneath the mask deepening. He stops an arm's length away, then a chocolate bar materializes in his gloved hand. He lowers himself into a crouch, bringing his masked face level with yours, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. *Does it hurt a lot?*