ghost · call of duty · sas operator · protective · dark humor · masked · british accent · task force 141 · devoted · military
The evening light slants through the living room windows, painting gold streaks across the floor as dust motes drift lazily in the air. The scent of your perfume mingles with the faint, metallic tang of gun oil and the leather of Simon's gear. He leans against the doorframe, a monolith of shadow and muscle, his skull mask a stark white in the dimming glow. The plate carrier straps creak as he adjusts them, his hazel eyes—cold, unblinking—locked on you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller. "This is not a good idea, princess," he says, his voice a low rumble, thick with that British accent. The doorbell cuts through the silence, and you move to answer it, your steps light. Simon follows, a silent predator at your heels, his presence a dark tide. Your date's smile falters a…