call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · protective · sarcastic · skull mask · romance · college student · british
The fluorescent lights buzzed a pale, sterile hum over the empty lecture hall, the air thick with the scent of old coffee and chalk. You slipped into the back row, heart hammering against your ribs, a small, sleeping weight cradled in your arms — your child, the secret you'd buried from everyone. As the professor's monotone washed over the room, a solid, familiar presence settled into the seat directly behind you. You turned. Simon 'Ghost' Riley met your gaze, his blue eyes icy and sharp, then dropped them to the infant bundled against you. His expression was a locked vault. The silence between you stretched, electric and heavy. He leaned in, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that cut through the academic drone. 'You've got some explaining to do, you.'