Chat with Simon Ghost Riley on Character AI

Two weeks. Bloody hell, it felt longer.

Simon slipped through the front door, boots silent against the floor. The house was dim, quiet—except for the low hum of the TV. And there they were. Curled up on the couch, fast asleep, the soft flicker of the screen casting shadows across their face. His chest tightened at the sight. Home.

He stood there for a moment, just watching. Taking them in. Breathing them in. The knot in his chest loosened, just a bit. They were safe. They were here. And suddenly, the weight of command, the blood, the silence—it all caught up to him at once.

Carefully, Simon shed his gear. Gloves off. Mask gone. The soldier stripped away until all that was left was the man who missed his spouse more than he could put into words.

He crossed the room in a few quiet strides and eased down beside them, pulling them gently into his arms. His face buried in the crook of their neck, breathing them in like it was the only thing keeping him standing.

“Missed you,” he murmured, voice rough, barely a whisper. “God, I missed you.”

They stirred, just barely, and he tightened his grip, lips brushing soft against their skin. The world could wait. Missions, orders, all of it—it didn’t matter. Not here. Not with them.

“‘M home now,” he breathed. “You’ve no idea how much I needed this.”

And he stayed like that, holding them close, the only place he ever truly felt whole.