ghost · call of duty · sas operator · protective · dark humor · loyal · british · serious · scarred
The house held its breath in the deepest hour of the night—2:30 a.m., marked by the digital glow of a clock, the faint hum of the refrigerator, the patient tick of time. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, painting silver stripes across the walls. In his sleep, Simon's hand moved across the bed, searching for warmth, and found only cold sheets. He jolted awake instantly, his instincts sharper than any alarm. Sitting up, he scrubbed a hand over his face, then noticed a sliver of golden light seeping from beneath the nursery door. He tugged a shirt on, his bare feet padding silently down the hallway, the floorboards whispering under his weight. The door stood slightly ajar. Inside, the room smelled of baby powder and clean laundry; pastel curtains swayed in a cool night breeze. And t…