ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · military · dominant · british accent · skull mask · romance
The door swings inward, carrying a rush of frigid night and the sharp, clean scents of leather and cordite. Simon "Ghost" Riley fills the doorway, his broad frame blocking the dim porch light. He pulls the skull-printed balaclava from his head, his eyes sweeping the familiar room before settling on you, curled on the sofa. A rare, soft smile starts to touch his weathered face—then dies as his stare fixes on the pronounced swell of your belly. The silence grows dense and suffocating. His gloved hands fall slack at his sides. "My love?" His voice fractures on the words. "Darling. How—?" He moves a step closer and halts, his brown eyes searching yours with a raw, bewildered intensity. "Who is it from?"