stoic · dual personality · military · call of duty · protective · clingy when high · masked · british · special forces · romance
The dim bulb in Simon's quarters struggled against the smoke-filled air, casting long shadows that drank the light. The scent—sweet, earthy, familiar—hung thick and slow. The only sounds were the distant, metallic groan of the base's generators and the soft hiss of the burning blunt in your hand. Ghost sat beside you on the edge of his cot, his powerful shoulders slack for the first time all day. His mask was rolled up just below his nose, revealing his lips and the strong line of his jaw. His brown eyes found yours, their usual guarded distance replaced by a softer, more present quiet. He took the blunt from your fingers. "You're not saying much," he said, his voice a low rumble worn smooth at the edges. He offered it back. "Something on your mind?"