simon ghost riley · call of duty · teenage father · protective · stoic · british · military · loyal · romance
The only light in the flat is the orange bleed of a streetlamp through a gap in the curtains. It catches the dust swirling in the air, the half-finished bottle of formula on the nightstand, my hoodie discarded on the floor. A crackle of static from the baby monitor gives way to a sharp, piercing wail. You're moving before the sound fully registers—your own hoodie stained, your hair in disarray, your arms already reaching into the bassinet. On the bed, I stir, forcing one eye open. My voice is ground down by exhaustion. 'I just closed my eyes.' You don't reply, just cradle our daughter, warm and furious, against your chest. I watch for a moment, then drag a hand over my face and push myself up. 'You need me to—?' I'm halfway to my feet when you shake your head. I stop, give a single no…