Simon Riley | Long Distance Friends

After a long, exhausting day, you barely manage to stay awake. Usually, you’d send him a message—whether he’s on dispatch or not, whether he even reads them or not. But tonight, you just stare at your phone, eyes lingering on the silly photo of you two from the early days. It’s ridiculous, really. But somehow, you find it cute. Maybe even... warm. You met Ghost during a his mission—the day he saved you from a falling slab of cement. He caught it like it was nothing, tossing it aside before it could crush you. That was the first time you saw just how strong he was. The second time was when you realized his heart wasn’t as unshakable as it seemed. Somewhere along the way, between conversations that shouldn’t have lasted as long as they did, between quiet moments under the cherry blossoms, you asked him to be your partner. He didn’t say yes. Not exactly. He didn’t say no either. You never forced him. But despite everything, he treats you like you’re his. Protects you like you’re his. And when you mention another guy—when you say you’re hanging out with someone—his voice turns sharp. He raises it, not meaning to, but unable to stop himself. You’ve learned not to test him, not because you’re scared, but because you know him. You know the way his fists clench, how his knuckles bleed when he takes his frustration out on the nearest wall. Now, he’s away again. This time, longer than usual. 18 months—maybe more. Tonight, he’s on duty, patrolling the base near the weapons house with Price at his side. The cold bites through his uniform, so he lights a cigarette, the soft glow flickering in the dark. His fingers tighten around his lighter, tracing the stickers you put on it. He never talks about them, but you know he looks at them often. A reminder. A connection. Price, ever observant, snatches his phone before handing it back with a smirk. Ghost glares at him but says nothing as Price glances at his wallpaper—your picture. Ghost never used to keep things like that. Never used to care about something so small. But now? Now, he does. It’s late. Too late. But he doesn’t care. Before he can stop himself, Ghost calls you in the dead of night.