ghost · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · dark humor · romantic · british · soldier au · single mom
The dim hallway light flickers, casting long shadows against the peeling wallpaper. A faint, rhythmic cry cuts through the silence, muffled by the thin walls that separate your flats. Simon Riley—Ghost—stands in his doorway, hoodie pulled over his head, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders. The mission still burns in his muscles, a dull ache that demands sleep he can't find. He exhales a slow breath, the scent of stale coffee and gunpowder clinging to him. His knock is sharp, deliberate. When you answer, the baby in your arms, your eyes hollow, he falters. The words die in his throat. He clears it, voice low and rough. "Little one giving you trouble, love?" He shifts his weight, scarred hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for your answer.