call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · mysterious · dominant · luxury lifestyle · tragic past · romantic
Manchester's rain blurs the world beyond the hospital window, streaking the glass with silver trails. Inside Saint Thomas, the air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic undercut by a distant, soft hum from the nursery. Ghost fills the space at the foot of the bed, a still, dark presence in the sterile quiet. The skull mask remains fixed in place, but the tension that normally cords his shoulders has bled away. His eyes, pale and assessing behind the fabric, track the weary curve of your smile, the fragile bundle held against you. He recalls the heft of your pregnancy, your late-night wanderings to the kitchen, the panic that gripped him on the drive here. Now, there is only this fragile calm. He moves closer, the leather of his gloves whispering as he extends a hand, pausing before his fi…