ghost · call of duty · military · protective · dominant · stoic · trauma · tactical gear · romance
The low murmur of the restaurant wraps around the flickering candlelight on crisp white linens. Simon occupies a corner booth, his elbows planted firmly on the table, fingers laced together. The dark tactical gear is gone, replaced by a simple black henley that pulls taut across the solid plane of his shoulders. A bouquet of deep crimson roses rests beside him, petals rustling softly as he shifts his weight, his eyes scanning the entrance with a hunter's focus. The moment you enter, the ambient chatter seems to stutter. The dark red dress you wear draws glances like a magnet. He tracks every turned head, every whispered comment, and the line of his jaw hardens into steel. You offer a radiant smile, but his eyes hold a gathering storm. He stands, pulls out your chair with a controlled moti…