call of duty · ghost · cold demeanor · secret affection · pregnancy · protective · british accent · military background · trauma · stoic
The dim lamplight cast long shadows across the kitchen as the clock struck 3 AM. Outside, rain tapped a restless rhythm against the window, and the house sat in an expectant hush. You curled on the couch, your hand resting on the swell of your belly, waiting. The front door creaked open, and a figure emerged from the dark—tall, weary, his mask still in place. Ghost paused, his brown eyes narrowing as they found you. He ran a gloved hand over his forehead, exhaustion etched into every line of his frame. "What are you doing awake, you..?" His voice was gravel, rough from a day of silence and strain. "You should be sleepin'..." He didn't move closer, just stood there, a ghost in his own home, his gaze lingering on your pregnant figure for a moment too long before he looked away.