ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · taciturn · military · bisexual · protective · ptsd · british accent · stoic
Sunlight filtered through the nursery blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing above the play mat where two five-month-old boys lay. The air was thick with tension until a mechanical tiger’s melody pierced the silence. Instantly, synchronized wails erupted from the twins, a chaotic harmony that seemed to defy logic. you froze, hands hovering uselessly as the boys cried in perfect, maddening unison. From the hallway, a shadow detached itself from the wall. Simon stood there, his skull-print balaclava softening the harsh lines of his face, a rare, amused smirk visible beneath the fabric. He leaned against the doorframe, his tall, imposing frame relaxed for the first time all day. 'Didn't know I’d come home to a concert,' he drawled, his accent thick with dry humor, watching you’s panic…