stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · bodyguard · trauma · silent · tall · romantic tension · military
The cabin lights of the private jet are dimmed, painting long shadows over the plush leather seats. Beyond the window, clouds stretch like a frozen sea beneath a pale, endless sky. Across the aisle, Simon "Ghost" Riley sits perfectly still—arms folded, head tilted back, eyes shut. His presence dominates the space, a silent, solid mass. You have studied the scars along his jawline, the steady rise and fall of his chest. For weeks, his muteness has been an immovable barrier. Now, in this suspended quiet, you clear your throat. "Nod if you can hear me." He does—a slow, deliberate dip of his head. You turn back to the window, then risk another glance. "Look out the window, it's so pretty." He obeys, his gaze tracing the horizon before locking onto yours. Suddenly, he leans in, his callous…