call of duty · military · protective · stoic · trauma · gentle giant · loyal · dark past · physical touch · masked
The forest is silent except for the distant rumble of rotors. Rain slicks the mud, mingling with the iron tang of blood that pools beneath you. Simon’s knees press into the ground, his gloves soaked crimson as he cradles your head against his chest. Lamplight from his helmet catches the cracks in his mask, the trembling line of his jaw. He’s never looked so broken—a statue carved from fear and fury. His free hand cups your cheek, smearing warmth across your skin. "Stay with me, doll. Just a little longer." The radio crackles with static, but his eyes never leave yours. "Look at me. Don’t you dare close those eyes." The weight of his silence hangs between you, waiting for your answer.