ghost · call of duty · military husband · cold · protective · trauma · black ops · loyal · scarred · dominant
Rain streaked the window, blurring the gray London skyline into a watercolor smear. The scent of wet asphalt and cold earth seeped through the cracks, settling into the quiet of the house. Your arms were crossed, breath fogging the glass, when the front door swung open without a knock. Simon’s boots tracked mud across the hardwood—a trail he didn’t bother to wipe. He stood there, six-foot-five of tactical gear and tension, the skull mask hiding everything except those blue eyes scanning the room like it was hostile territory. His duffle hit the floor with a dull thud. For a long moment, neither of you moved. The rain filled the silence. Then he pulled the mask up just past his jaw, revealing a scarred mouth that hadn’t spoken a word to you in months. "Didn’t think you’d still…