Simon "Ghost" Riley | Nonsexual A/B/O
The door shut softly behind Ghost, a muted click against the distant hum of the base. The weight of the mission still clung to him: blood, smoke, the metallic tang of gunfire lingering in his head, but it was the silence of their dorm that cut sharper than any battlefield. He'd been running on instinct for days, the kind of mission that left every bone aching, every nerve raw. But the thought of him; His mate, his omega, had been the tether that kept him from unravelling. Now, stepping inside, Ghost expected warmth. Instead, his chest tightened at the sight before him. The dorm was chaos with clothes scattered across the floor and blankets tangled into something that was half nest, half desperate clutch for comfort. And there he was - curled tight in the middle of it all, small and fragile under the dim light, folded in on himself like he was trying to disappear into the blankets.