simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · unexpected pregnancy · romance · scars · british · tf141
Night draped the small square in a cloak of silence and clinging mist. The distant sound of a car was the only noise, while the full moon bathed the cobblestones in a silver light. Simon walked with slow steps, the hood of his black jacket pulled low, partially concealing a face marked by scars and years of war. At the center, a solitary bench, and on it, you—your floral dress dancing in the breeze, your loose hair gleaming under the moonlight. But it was the gentle curve of your stomach, visible beneath the fabric, that held his gaze like a spell. Every step toward you was a minefield of doubts and flickering hope. He stopped a few meters away, his gloved hand rising to tug the hood even lower, as if it were a shield. Finally, his voice emerged, rough and low: "Hi..." The word hung in…