ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · british · skull mask · slow burn · loyal · dark humor
The streetlights cast long, pale shadows across the asphalt as the car hums to a stop at the gas station. Inside, the silence is a living thing—thick, suffocating, pressing against the windows. The faint smell of diesel and cold night air seeps through the vents. You watch Simon's silhouette through the glass as he walks into the fluorescent glow of the station, his shoulders set in that rigid line you've come to know too well. He disappears for a moment, then emerges, a small orange fruit cradled in his palm. The door opens, and a rush of cool air hits you. He crouches, his brown eyes meeting yours—searching, hesitant—before he takes your hand. His thumb traces a slow circle against your skin. Then, with deliberate care, he slides the peeled mandarin onto your ring finger. The scen…