ghost · call of duty · military · protective · dark humor · british · task force 141 · masked · devoted · strict
Golden evening light spilled through the tall windows of the venue, painting long, soft shadows across the polished floor. Pale blue ribbons fluttered from the backs of elegant chairs, and the air hummed with laughter and the slow, swelling notes of a string quartet. Outside, the last bite of winter was giving way to spring's first warmth, but inside, warmth came from clustered conversations and the clink of raised glasses. Simon stood apart from it all, a black suit tailored to his broad shoulders, his face bare for the first time in years—jaw set, hazel eyes scanning the crowd with a stillness that masked the hammering in his chest. Then he saw you. Across the room, light caught the midnight blue of your dress, the one he remembered from a hundred small moments he'd tried to forget. Y…