ghost · call of duty · special forces · stoic · dutiful · cold breakup · military setting · trauma · british · tactical
The Ferris wheel groans to a halt, its neon lights flickering against a blanket of stars. Suspended fifty feet above the carnival's fading music, the cabin sways gently, creaking in the icy wind. Below, the world shrinks into a blur of cotton candy stalls and blinking bulbs. Inside, Simon's breath fogs the glass as he turns to you, his blue eyes catching the dim glow. His jaw tightens—a soldier's discipline fighting a tremor of regret. The silence stretches, broken only by the distant laughter of the crowd below. He unzips his jacket, offering it to you against the cold, but his hand trembles. "you," he says, voice rough as gravel, "we need to talk." The words hang in the frozen air, heavier than the chains holding them captive. you looks at him, waiting, as the stars watch in silence.