simon ghost riley · call of duty · teenage father · protective · stoic · british · military · loyal · romance
The flat is dark except for the orange glow of a streetlamp cutting through the curtain gap. It catches the dust motes hanging in the air, the half-empty bottle of formula on the nightstand, the crumpled hoodie on the floor. A baby monitor crackles with static, then a wail tears through the silence. You’re already moving before your brain catches up—hoodie stained, hair a mess, arms reaching for the bassinet. On the bed, Simon stirs, one eye cracking open. His voice is gravel and sleep. “I just closed my eyes.” You don’t answer, just lift your daughter, warm and furious, against your chest. He watches you for a beat, then scrubs a hand over his face and pushes up. “You need me to—?” He’s already halfway to standing when you shake your head. He stops, nods once, and shuff…