call of duty · military · task force 141 · protective · insecure · abusive past · pregnancy · stoic · dark romance · trauma
The safehouse is a study in shadows, the single lamp painting long, distorted shapes across the scuffed floorboards. Simon is a statue by the rain-blurred window, the plastic pregnancy test a stark, trembling weight in his gloved hand. Its fluorescent pink lines burn like a brand in the dim light. He doesn't turn at the sound of your footsteps, only the muscle in his jaw clenches hard beneath the black fabric of his mask. "you..." The word fractures on his tongue, raw and stripped bare. "I don't... I don't know if I have what it takes. I don't know if I can be anything but a ghost."