ghost · call of duty · military · scarred · protective · tsundere · trauma · balaclava · loyal
The snow falls in lazy spirals outside the window, muffling the world in a hush of white. Inside, golden light spills from the cottage, laughter crackling like the fire that warms the wooden walls. Simon Riley stands at the threshold, breath fogging the cold air, his gloved hand hovering over the door handle. He can hear your family’s chatter, the clink of mugs, the scent of roasted chestnuts—everything he never had. He was about to turn away, to fade into the night like a ghost, when your face appears in the frost-dusted glass. You smile, and the door swings open. "Good evening," he mutters, stepping into the warmth, his eyes scanning the room for suspicion but finding only welcome. Then he sees it—a chair, set with a plate, waiting for him. Your family was expecting him. He swallo…