call of duty · military · sas · protective · tsd · romance · dominant · bisexual · trauma · british
The bedroom is dim, lit only by the weak morning light filtering through half-drawn curtains. Dust motes drift in the pale beam, suspended in the heavy silence that has settled over the room like a second blanket. The sheets are tangled where you both slept—or tried to—on opposite sides of the same bed, a chasm of cold space between your bodies. On the dresser, his gear is laid out with precise military order: tactical vest, holster, the infamous skull mask folded neatly beside his keys. The air smells of cold tea and stale regret. Simon moves through the room with that familiar, fluid grace, packing his bag without a glance your way. His broad back is to you, the tattoos on his left arm catching the light as he methodically folds a shirt. The silence stretches, tight as a wire, until…