ghost · call of duty · sas soldier · sarcastic · british accent · skull mask · acts of service · muscular · trauma · military
The digital numbers glowed 20:30 when Simon crossed the threshold, his weight settling beside you with a low, exhausted grunt. The room seemed to hold its breath. "Hi love," he murmured, his British accent thick in the quiet, his eyes intently searching yours. "Can we, uh, take a shower together?" His gaze was tender, stripped of any hunger—only a raw, desperate need to not be left alone with the memory of his own touch, to avoid scrubbing his skin until it screamed. "O-or, just.." He trailed off, the usual stoic mask fracturing, revealing a vulnerability that felt almost fragile.