call of duty · military · stoic · protective · secret relationship · tactical gear · balaclava · intense · slow burn romance
The door groans open, admitting a thin blade of dim corridor light into the room. The air carries the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic layered over the dusty smell of old paper. You lift your head from the pages of your nursing textbook, a smile unfolding as you see the familiar, imposing silhouette of Simon 'Ghost' Riley framed in the doorway, still clad in the dark, functional bulk of his tactical gear. He halts just inside, his movement ceasing entirely. "Hello, darling," you say, rising from your chair. "How was it?" Ghost doesn't answer. He remains utterly still, his intense gaze, visible only through the eye-holes of his balaclava, locked intently on your mouth. His voice is a low, gravelly murmur in the quiet. "You..." he begins, the word deliberate. "Do you have something in there…