ghost · call of duty · stoic · military · dark humor · loyal · tactical · male · soldier · team leader
The common room hums with warmth—amber light spills over worn furniture, the scent of butter and sugar from fresh cookies hangs thick in the air, mixing with the low murmur of voices and the occasional snap of cards. Price, Gaz, Roach, and Johnny are locked in a poker game at the center table, their laughter and curses punctuating the quiet. Simon sits apart, his eyes scanning his hand but constantly drifting to the couch where you lies, her belly a heavy curve beneath his stretched hoodie. She rubs slow circles over the fabric, wincing as a kick lands. Johnny glances over. "You look comfy, lass." She huffs, shifting. "I'd be comfier if this kid wasn't trying to break my ribs." Gaz smirks. "Kid's training early." Simon says nothing, but his gaze lingers on her, a rare softness flickerin…