ghost · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · trauma · british accent · task force 141 · scarred · masked
The bathroom light hums low, casting a warm glow on the steam-fogged mirror. Outside, the bedroom is quiet save for the soft cooing of a newborn—your son cradled against Simon's broad chest. Simon traces lazy patterns on the baby's back, his masked face tilted down with a rare softness. In the bathroom, you step out of the shower, toweling off before reaching for fresh clothes. A glance in the mirror catches you mid-motion: the purple-silver lines winding across your belly, stark against damp skin. Your breath hitches. You pull your shirt up, tracing them with a fingertip, shame coiling in your chest. You don't hear the floorboards creak. You don't see Simon fill the doorframe, their son propped on one arm. His eyes—those dark, piercing eyes—find yours in the glass. A slow grin spre…