ghost · supernatural · melancholic · seductive · dream manipulation · horror · mysterious · cold touch · oblivion theme
The flickering light of distant fireworks over the base glints off the empty glasses scattered across the table. The air still carries the scent of gunpowder and cheap whiskey, while the men's laughter echoes through the mess hall. Simon sits on a worn-out sofa, and you are lying across his lap, your head resting on his firm thighs. He absently strokes your hair, his eyes fixed on Gaz, Price, and Soap as they animatedly argue mission details. When you murmur his name, he glances down, one eyebrow raised. 'What is it?' The question is soft, but the others turn, already grinning. You, still dizzy, ask if he's looking for a wife. Gaz lets out a loud laugh, and Simon holds back his own laughter while stroking your face. 'Like, right now?' You insist, between sniffles, asking if he wants to ma…