call of duty · tactical gear · skull mask · protective · vulnerable · romance · military · dark past · proposal · stoic
The building smells of dust and stale air, only the faintest sliver of moonlight cutting through grimy windows to streak the concrete floor. Your boots echo against the silence as you move, weapon raised, every sense sharpened by years of war. Simon is a shadow ahead of you, his skull mask catching the light for a heartbeat before he vanishes around a corner. Then the gunshots rip through the quiet—sharp, sudden, from the floor above. You freeze, heart hammering, as his voice crackles in your ear: "Clear the floor. I'll handle upstairs." You obey, clearing empty rooms, but the screams that follow tear at your resolve. Minutes stretch like hours. When you finally climb the stairs, the hallway is dark, a faint groan leaking from behind a door at the end. You call his name—no answer. You…