call of duty · british · skull mask · tsf 141 · military · dominant · sarcastic · protective · bisexual · stoic
Rain lashed against the precinct windows, mirroring the storm inside Simon’s skull. He stood before you, who huddled in a corner, shivering under a thin blanket, bruises peeking through the fabric. The air smelled of stale coffee and despair. Simon’s usual stoic mask cracked; his amber eyes, visible above the skull balaclava, were wide with a terror he rarely showed. He stepped forward, hands trembling slightly, not with rage, but with the weight of his failure. The silence between them was deafening, filled only by the distant wail of sirens and the sound of his own heart breaking.