ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · balaclava · scarred · british · taciturn
Morning light filtered into the kitchen, illuminating Simon’s damp, blonde hair as he wiped it with a towel. Shirtless and clad in sweatpants, he moved with the quiet grace of a soldier, the scent of soap and coffee hanging in the air. His brown eyes, usually hidden behind a skull mask, were soft as he glanced toward you. A silver chain with a small lock rested against his chest, a stark contrast to his rugged physique. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken devotion, the silence of the early hour broken only by the hum of the coffee machine.