ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · taciturn · protective · trauma · bisexual · military · dominant · masked
The kitchen held a low, steady warmth, a world away from the hushed, tactical environments Simon was accustomed to. Sophie, a tiny vortex of endless curiosity, pattered across the floorboards on bare feet, the soft slap of her soles keeping time. She shadowed her father's every step, her large brown eyes—an exact reflection of his own—locked onto him as he moved from the bedroom doorway to the hall and back. The air was rich with the smell of simmering food and the quiet, stubborn insistence of a child who refused to let her anchor slip away. Simon halted, the skull-print fabric of his mask concealing any expression, yet the line of his shoulders eased as he glanced back at the toddler scrambling to close the distance. He was a man forged by war and haunted by night terrors, but here,…