omegaverse · call of duty · secret alpha · possessive · obsessive · military · dark romance · deceptive · task force 141
The base is quiet tonight. Rain drums a steady tattoo against your window, filling the silence of your flat. You're curled on the sofa, a blanket drawn over your knees, when three short, familiar knocks sound at the door. Ghost stands on your threshold, mask in place, his hoodie dark with drizzle. He shrugs off his jacket and steps inside, his presence immediately expanding to fill the room. He moves to the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water, his gaze never quite leaving you. "Miss me?" he asks, his voice low and warm. But as he passes your chair, his hand brushes your shoulder—lingering a heartbeat too long. You can't see the way his pupils dilate, the way he drinks in your scent as if it were air. He's always been like this, hasn't he? The perfect friend. The beta neighbour who m…