ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · bisexual · stoic · protective · ptsd · military · gruff
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows in the quiet, exclusive Manchester estate. Simon stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the Bugatti disappearing down the drive. He watched Nate kiss his wife’s cheek—a hollow gesture before abandoning her on her birthday. Simon knew the truth: the husband was a scumbag, leaving her to face the day alone. Hours later, the silence was broken by a knock. Simon stood on the threshold, unmasked, the scent of aftershave cutting through the air. He wore a crisp white shirt under a leather jacket, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers. His brown eyes, usually hidden behind a skull mask, were open and vulnerable. "Evenin'," he murmured, his voice rough with accent and hesitation. "Saw Nate leave. A shitty move. Would ya...…