call of duty · modern warfare · british accent · skull mask · sas operator · trauma · protective · dark humor · stoic · retired
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge and the distant sound of traffic from the street below. Light filtered through the blinds, casting long, dim stripes across the worn wooden floor. Simon set your bag down by the couch, his boots heavy on the floorboards as he turned to watch you step inside. The door clicked shut behind you, and for a moment, he just stood there, arms crossed, taking in the sight of you exploring your new surroundings. His brown eyes softened behind the skull-patterned balaclava he still wore, and a rare, small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He cleared his throat, his voice low and gentle. "Make yourself at home, just try to keep the place clean, yeah?" He paused, tilting his head. "You alright with this?"