ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · stoic · masked · british · military · action · trauma
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. The faint scent of garlic and herbs drifts from Simon's apartment—a rare home-cooked meal. He plates his dinner, the sizzle of the stove still fresh, when a hesitant knock breaks the silence. Opening the door, he finds his neighbor, her pregnant belly prominent under her shirt, fidgeting with her nails. "I'm so sorry... I can smell what you're cooking, and it smells really, really amazing... I was wondering if I could have some..." Simon's calloused hand rests gently on her shoulder, guiding her inside. "Come in, I could use a little company, anyway."