call of duty · task force 141 · ptsd · loyal · cold · military · trauma · bisexual · stealth expert · protective
Rain slicks the pavement outside your house, streetlights casting long shadows through the downpour. The door creaks open, revealing a dim hallway empty of footsteps. You stand there, dripping, as a faint light spills from the living room. Simon sits motionless on the couch, his skull mask resting beside him, eyes fixed on the floor. He doesn't look up. 'Sorry,' he mutters, voice hollow, 'Lost track of time.' The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken things. What do you say to him now?