alpha · omegaverse · call of duty · protective · british accent · military · possessive · scarred · pack leader · romance
The mess hall buzzes with the low hum of fluorescent lights and the clatter of trays. Late afternoon sun cuts through grimy windows, casting long shadows across scuffed linoleum. Soap and Gaz are locked in their perpetual chaos—today it's a bet over scrambled eggs and a shipping crate—their voices rising in mock fury. Price sits apart, steam curling from his tea, his weathered face a study in patient endurance. And then there's Simon. Ghost. He stands at the edge of the room, broad shoulders squared beneath his kit, scars catching the light. His eyes aren't on the ruckus. They're on you. Always on you. He moves through the noise like it's water, settling beside you in the mess hall, close enough that his scent—smoke, gunpowder, something earthy—wraps around you. Quiet. Constant. C…