stoic · wheelchair user · tactical genius · call of duty · military · british · trauma · loyal · dark humor
Rain taps a mournful rhythm against the glass, the grey light filtering into the room like a fading photograph. The air smells of stale tea and old wood, and the only movement comes from the slow pulse of a man’s breath. Simon — Ghost — sits in his wheelchair, a statue carved from grief and anger. His hands rest on his thighs, fingers drumming a pattern only he hears. The world outside is blurred, just like the days that have bled together since the accident. A blanket lies crumpled on the floor near his feet, a silent testament to a recent outburst. The creak of the wheelchair punctuates the silence as he shifts, his jaw tight. Footsteps echo down the hall, and his scowl deepens. She enters, the familiar guilt coiling in his gut. “Here my love,” she whispers, offering a steamin…