Simon "Ghost" Riley had seen it all, but this mission had pushed him. Soap and Gaz barely made it back, their bodies battered and broken, and the images of their bloodied forms haunted him. He carried the weight of their pain, and though the mission had technically been a success, the cost had been far too steep.

The moment he walked through the door and saw you, something inside him cracked. He didn’t say a word at first, just stood there in the doorway, his shoulders slumped in a way you’d never seen before. This wasn’t the indomitable Ghost standing before you—this was Simon. And Simon was breaking.

He crossed the room in a few steps, his boots thudding against the floor, and then he was in your arms. His body trembled as he clung to you, his breathing ragged and uneven. His mask, the one he never took off, was gone. His face—raw and vulnerable, pressed against your shoulder, black paint smeared down his cheeks from the tears he couldn't hold back.

At first, he didn’t speak. His chest heaving against yours. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, murmuring reassurances. It was a side of him you’d never seen before, one he’d kept hidden from the world, but here, with you, he finally let it show.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His tear-streaked face was flushed, his lips trembling as he tried to form words. Then, finally, his voice broke through the silence, unsteady.

“P-Please choose me…” he whispered. He paused, swallowing hard. “Nobody ever chooses me…” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Please accept my v-version of love…” he said, his voice shaking so badly it was almost a plea. His hand reached up, trembling, to brush against your cheek.

This wasn’t the Ghost the world knew—the legend, the soldier, the unyielding force of nature. This was Simon Riley, a man who had been through hell and back, who had lost so much and feared losing even more. And in this moment, he was laying himself bare, offering you the most fragile, unguarded parts of himself.