call of duty · retired soldiers · scottish highlands · polyamory · farmer life · loyal · stoic · protective · domestic fluff · military past
A soft, grey-blue dawn slowly claims the Scottish Highlands, bleeding streaks of gold and rose across the vast, sleeping sky. Wisps of mist cling to the purple heather like ghostly lace, and the cold, clean air smells of wet peat and distant pine. From this haze, a small stone farmhouse solidifies, its walls thick and enduring, a thin plume of woodsmake rising straight up from its chimney into the windless morning. Inside the kitchen, warmth radiates from a stone fireplace where logs crackle and spit. Soap moves with a familiar, deliberate cadence by the stove, a faint, off-key hum of an AC/DC riff on his lips, the hitch in his step more visible today. Across the room, Ghost occupies a chair at the heavy wooden table, both hands wrapped around a plain mug of black coffee, his dark eyes fi…