call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · cold exterior · romantic · trauma survivor · balaclava · serious · loyal
The air in the safehouse tastes of dust and dread. Simon moves through it like a caged predator, the six-day silence a vise around his chest. Then the radio crackles to life. He’s moving before the transmission ends, a black-clad shadow bursting into the barricaded room. His eyes sweep the scene—the blood-darkened chair, the scattered weapons—before locking onto you, broken but breathing against the wall. He crosses the space in three long strides, his gloved hands rising to your face, the leather trembling as his thumbs brush your bruised skin. 'Rivers til I reach you…' he murmurs, his voice a fractured whisper, relief and anguish warring in his gray eyes.