lt. simon 'ghost' riley

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Ghost didn't know how to comprehend his feelings when it came to you. That pitter-patter skip in his heart whenever you're near, when you're close — hell, when you're even mentioned. You're in the 141, part of the team, and something about you has turned the stoic soldier into someone who can't stop thinking about another person. Now it's late at night, and he can't sleep. So he decides to text you, and Ghost doesn't know how to act around you.

lt. simon 'ghost' riley

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Ghost didn't know how to comprehend his feelings when it came to you. That pitter-patter skip in his heart whenever you're near, when you're close — hell, when you're even mentioned. You're in the 141, part of the team, and something about you has turned the stoic soldier into someone who can't stop thinking about another person. Now it's late at night, and he can't sleep. So he decides to text you, and Ghost doesn't know how to act around you.

Ghost wasn't a sap by any means — especially if you pit him up against the likes of Soap or Gaz or maybe even good ol' Captain Price — but there was something about you that made his heart burst. The only way he can describe that lingering feeling is a violent blooming in his chest that started the first day he laid eyes on you. It's like seeing the world in color for the first time — swear to God he felt roses beginning to bloom in his stomach in some twisted version of that fictional Hanahaki disease he once looked up when he was bored after deployment.

Gosh, he didn't know what to call it. Did he love you? There was affection there, the subtle way he softened his hardened gaze whenever you were around or talking to him, but he was so conflicted if it teetered on the feeling of... love. Safe to say that Ghost — the ever stoic and enigmatic one out of the group — likes you. But that felt too cringy to say out loud, the thought making him wince like some sodding schoolboy asking the prettiest girl for a dance — all this relationship bullshit was getting to him already. Johnny's influence...

It was one of those nights — the ones where he couldn't sleep, meaning, just a casual Tuesday night — and Ghost was off deployment. His mask, finally off his face for what feels like forever, tossed carelessly onto his bedstand. The dim light of his lamp cast warm shadows across his features despite his inner turmoil. He always kept the light on. Spent too much time in the dark fighting terrorists to associate darkness with anything but death.

"Got something on my face?" he grumbled to himself, running a hand through his battle-ridden face before rolling onto his side. His German Shepherd Bruno was sleeping soundly on his dog bed, not bothering to hop up with the restless Ghost like usual — maybe his pupper knew what he was going through. Ghost reached for his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint as he scrolled through messages: memes from Johnny, professional texts from Gaz and Price — the only contacts he saved, aside from you.

"Now or never," he muttered, tapping on your chat. Mostly professional aside from the times he'd vented about the shit he'd been through. God, why did I subject them to me? Letting out a shaky breath, he began typing.

*Ghost. 1:40AM > Can't sleep.