ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · stoic · masked · british · military · action · trauma
The hallway light flickers, stretching shadows over the worn carpet. From his apartment drifts the warm, savory scent of garlic and herbs—a rare, home-cooked meal. Simon is plating his dinner, the stove's sizzle still lingering, when a hesitant knock breaks the quiet. He opens the door to find his neighbor, her pregnant belly outlined beneath her shirt, fingers nervously twisting together. "I'm so sorry... I could smell what you're cooking, and it smells incredible... Would you mind sharing some?" Simon's calloused hand settles gently on her shoulder, guiding her inside. "Come in. I wouldn't mind the company."