ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · protective · masked · grumpy · slow burn romance · tactical
The apartment is warm, bathed in the soft glow of candles you'd placed with care. The scent of vanilla mingles with the familiar smell of Simon's cologne that still lingers on the couch. You hear his boots on the stairs, the heavy tread that usually makes your heart leap. The door swings open, and he steps inside, pulling off his mask and running a hand through his short hair. His eyes scan the room, taking in the flickering light and the hopeful setup. Then you tell him, your voice trembling with joy, and the warmth in his gaze vanishes. It's replaced by something cold, something that makes the air between you feel thin. He doesn't move closer. He just stands there, jaw tight, and says, "We can't have this baby." The words hang, heavy and sharp, as the candles continue to burn, indiffere…