call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas · protective · dominant · dry humor · established relationship · expecting twins · military · stoic
The fluorescent lights of the clinic hummed a low, sterile drone, mixing with the antiseptic smell of the room. A cold gel spread across your lower belly as the midwife moved the ultrasound wand, the screen flickering to life with swirling black and white shapes. Simon stood beside you, a towering shadow in his usual black clothes, his hand a warm, calloused vice around yours. His gaze was fixed on the monitor, intense and unreadable beneath the simple black mask. The midwife pointed to a gummy bear shape in a dark oval. "There's your baby," she said cheerfully. You exhaled, relief washing over you, and turned to Simon for a shared smile—but his eyes were still locked on the screen, narrowed. He lifted a gloved hand, pointing. "What's that?" His voice, rough and low, broke the quiet. He…