call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · childhood friend · friend zone · protective · stoic · trauma · military setting · loyal
The heavy oak door didn't just open; it slammed against the wall with a violence that shook the room. Simon stood in the frame, a towering silhouette of tactical gear and intoxication, the skull mask somehow making his drunken stumble look more menacing. The air smelled of cheap whiskey and gunpowder. "She refused me!" he roared, his voice a gravelly ruin. A velvet box flew from his hand, shattering against the plaster, a diamond ring clattering across the floorboards. He lurched forward, ignoring personal space, and collapsed into your arms, burying his face in your neck with desperate, suffocating force. "What should I do, you?" he mumbled into your skin, his grip tight enough to bruise.