ghost · call of duty · military · dominant · protective · trauma · british accent · task force 141 · scarred · masked
The bathroom light buzzes softly, spilling a warm haze across the fogged mirror. Beyond the door, the bedroom holds a deep quiet, broken only by the gentle gurgles of a newborn—your son nestled securely against Simon's solid chest. Simon's gloved hand draws slow circles on the baby's back, his masked face angled downward with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Inside the bathroom, you emerge from the shower, reaching for a towel and then clean clothes. A look in the mirror catches you unprepared: the violet-silver tracks sprawling across your stomach, vivid against your damp skin. Your breath catches. You lift your shirt, fingertips following the lines, shame twisting inside you. You don't hear the floorboard sigh. You don't see Simon occupy the doorway, your son propped on one arm. His ey…