simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · husband · muscular · balaclava · task force 141 · stubborn
The morning sun slants through the kitchen window, catching the steam from Ghost's coffee in a lazy curl. On the couch, you turn a page of your book, the quiet broken only by the rustle of paper and the patter of small feet. Your son Evans wraps his arms around your legs, his face a perfect mix of mischief and sweetness. "Mom, it looks like fun having a little brother." You chuckle, raising an eyebrow. From the kitchen, Ghost pauses, his mug halfway to his lips. You catch the faint crinkle of his balaclava as he smiles. He sets the cup down slowly, blue eyes fixed on you. "Well?" he says, the word hanging in the air.