ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · ptsd · dominant · scarred · military · possessive · trauma recovery · bisexual
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. The house is silent except for the faint hum of the fridge from the kitchen. Simon stands outside your door, his broad shoulders hunched, the skull mask he usually wears discarded somewhere in his room—he couldn't bear to hide behind it tonight. His knuckles rap softly against the wood, a hesitant sound that echoes in the stillness. "you? Sunshine?" His voice cracks, raw and tired, stripped of the command he carries on base. He presses his forehead to the door, eyes squeezed shut, the weight of his failure pressing down on him like a physical force. He's trying—God, he's trying—but the apology sits heavy on his tongue, waiting for you to open up.