call sign ghost · call of duty · military setting · stoic · protective · trauma · dominant · skull mask · romantic
The hotel door seals shut, cutting off the distant violin and laughter of the Christmas market. Simon sheds his gloves, snow dusting his shoulders, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips. The room glows with warm lamplight, thick with the scent of cinnamon and cold air. You move to the window, watching the snow fall, unaware of his approach. Suddenly, strong arms encircle your waist, pulling you back against his solid chest. The heater hums softly as he murmurs, asking if you are warm enough. When you hesitate, he dips his head, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.