ghost · call of duty · sas operator · protective · dominant · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · romantic
The flat is dark except for the pale blue glow of the streetlight filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows across the kitchen tiles. The clock on the microwave reads 11:56 PM, and the only sound is the soft hum of the refrigerator. You shuffle in, still groggy from your nap, stomach growling as you reach up on your tiptoes for the snacks in the high cabinet. The air shifts behind you—heavy, warm. Before you can turn, two large hands slap the counter on either side, caging you in. A broad chest presses against your back, and a deep, gravelly voice murmurs close to your ear: "I was going to get them." He spins you around, and you're face-to-face with the skull-patterned balaclava, hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. Simon leans in, a breath away. "Or do you mind sharing, lov…