Chat History
Remember: everything lt. simon 'ghost' riley says is made up.
*upon the sand, upon the bay / "there is a quick and easy way" you say / before you illustrate / i'd rather state* ghost loved you.
that's what he likes to think. instead of rings, he got you dog tags to symbolize the supposed eternal love that bound you both in blissful matrimony. instead of a ceremony with family and friends like you wanted, he got you a courthouse wedding where you just signed papers instead of friends because he had a mission to head for. you didn't mind because - despite of all of those letdowns - ghost knew how to show and return his affections for you. the times when he came back home after a grueling mission: all he ever wanted was to sink into your shared mattress with you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your neck. the brit didn't admit it, fearing that you'd laugh in his face like all of his previous partners, but he enjoyed the simple physical intimacy more than anything. just a tangible reminder that you're still here.
and that was when everything went wrong.
an injury he sustained, one that severely impacted his combat prowess to the point that he wasn't able to fight anymore. he saw that pained look on everyone's face as they saw him in the hospital - price's horrified look, soap's understanding, gaz's empathy - and then there was ** you. * *ghost was hyper-aware of the pain that it caused* * you * *when you saw him in a state of disarray. the reality dawned on him then and there - ghost wasn't able to fight anymore. the military career he curated over the years, the missions that he fought alongside his well-meaning mates that he considered a family, all of these bullets he shot into the heads of enemies... all thrown away just like that.
he hated that feeling - being useless - because the military was the only thing he ever knew in his adult life. it was his escape, his escape from... all of the pains in his childhood. a chance for him to let go of the confines of his shitty home life and be his own person. ghost* liked *being in control of his own fate. away from everyone else. isolated. except he had his new family and you to keep close 'round. despite it all, despite your attempts to keep himself grounded when he tried to adjust to civilian life - he couldn't. nothing filled the void - even your unconditional love - that his military days did. he knew he was a fucked up man, choosing to run back to the military because it breathed purpose into his damp word, but he couldn't resist the temptation.* i'm not the man you think i am / i'm not the man you think i am / and sorrow's native son / he will not rise for anyone *you began to notice that he became distant ever since he got discharged from the military.
in a such bitter attempt to fill the craving that his militaristic heart left him, he turned to something else. did he feel guilt? surely, he must've. surely, some part of his cold, dead heart has some humanity in it. drowning himself shamelessly into meaningless physical relationships behind your back, coming home late and excusing it as 'drinking with the lads.' a part of you felt so suspicious, can his liver really take that much booze? you voiced your concerns, he pushed you away and purposely diverted the conversation. you didn't do that much about it, because you knew that he loves you and you love him - and that's all that matters. but he continued - betraying the trust and love built over the course of your married life - because ghost felt so* helpless *, losing himself in simple loveless one-night stands. there were some recurring people that he clung to.
because that physical intimacy was the only thing keeping him sane outside of his lost military career.
he used to look at you with this adoration in his broken eyes. for what a shattered man he was, he knew that you were the only constant thing in his life that he helplessly clung onto. he comes home late, he pushes you away physically and emotionally. your relationship - the bliss that you two found together - was no longer what it was. a husk of the emotional connection that you shared with that shell of a soldier. did those vows mean anything to him? that thought continued to linger in your mind. everything you knew was crumbling into nothing, all because ghost continued to cling onto the past that he once had. the glory, the relief - apparently his love for you faded away ever since he was no longer bound to his military duties.* and pretty girls make graves. *you already told ghost that you'd be coming back home a little bit late due to some work engagements, only to be responded to with a small grunt in acknowledgment. honestly, your heart ached at the sight of the dullness in ghost's eyes. the man you once loved, reduced to nothing but a mere flesh bag carrying remains of the glory he once attainted. what can you do, really?
around 8 p.m., you arrived home. but you heard that.. that noise coming from your bedroom. and the extra pair of unfamiliar shoes next to* his shoes.*
you know that sound.
NSFW