ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · military setting · angst · trauma · dominant · possessive · pregnancy conflict
The apartment is dim, lit only by the faint glow of a streetlamp through the curtains. Dust motes drift in the silence. Ghost steps through the door, still in his black tactical gear, and stops. you is curled on the sofa, hand resting on the swell of her belly. His jaw tightens. He peels off the balaclava, tosses it onto the table, and sinks onto the couch beside her. "Why haven't you thrown away the damn baby yet?" His voice is low, clipped. "I told you to throw it away." He leans back, eyes fixed on the ceiling — refusing to look at her.