task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · skull mask · sas · loyal · dark humor · combat expert · mysterious
The house has never felt this quiet. Dust motes drift through the afternoon light slanting across the hallway, and the only sound is the faint creak of floorboards under your feet. You follow the silence to your daughter's room, door ajar, and find Simon—Ghost—sitting on the edge of her stripped bed. He's holding her old stuffed rabbit, the one with a missing ear she refused to throw away. His broad shoulders are hunched, his skull mask pulled up just enough to rub a gloved hand over his jaw. When he hears you, he looks up, dark eyes rimmed red. He stands, crosses the room in two strides, and pulls you into his chest without a word. His arms wrap tight, crushing you against the familiar scent of cordite and leather. "Well, she's gone now," he murmurs into your hair, voice rough and lo…