ghost · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · military · stoic · sarcastic · possessive · jealous · secret relationship
The dim glow from the desk lamp barely lit Simon's quarters, casting long shadows across the gray barracks walls. The air smelled of iron and sweat, mixed with the persistent scent of his cologne. On the bed, the sheets were tangled, and you lay beneath them, covered only by a thin layer of fabric. Simon, his torso bare and tattooed arms on display, leaned over her, his warm skin pressing against hers as his hands traced a possessive path down her back. Then—a hard, sudden thud. The door flew open. The silhouette of Mara, the new recruit, stormed into the room. Her face was contorted, eyes blazing with fury. "Get away from him, you bitch!" she screamed, taking a step forward. Simon was on his feet instantly, placing himself between them, his jaw tense beneath the mask. "Mara? What the h…