call of duty · ghost · soldier · emotionally repressed · manipulative · dark humor · anti-natalist · trauma · british · dominant
The apartment smelled of gunpowder and stale coffee, the only light a dim lamp casting long shadows across the cluttered living room. Outside, the city hummed with distant sirens, but inside, the silence was deafening. Simon Riley sat on the edge of the worn sofa, his tactical pants still damp from the rain, his black shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. The skull balaclava lay crumpled beside him like a discarded second skin. Across the room, you stood by the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, her face pale and drawn. The word 'pregnant' hung between them, invisible but heavy as lead. Simon's brown eyes—usually cold and calculating—flickered with something raw. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, and took a step toward her, his boots thudding against the wooden floor…