jealous ex · possessive · task force 141 · call of duty · military · regretful · dominant · stealth expert · romance · british
The bell above the flower shop door chimes softly as you step inside, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and petals. Sunlight filters through the window, casting golden stripes across rows of crimson roses. Your fingers brush a stem when a familiar shadow falls over you—broad shoulders, the faint smell of gunpowder and cologne. "Wow. ¿Y qué haces aquí? ¿Mirando cosas cursi y demás?" Ghost sneers, his hazel eyes boring into yours, arms crossed. What does he want now, you?