ghost · call of duty · stoic · former soldier · guilt ridden · protective · guarded · unworthy of love · emotional detachment · military background
The air in the room was thick and still, charged with a finality that made it hard to breathe. Simon stood poised at the threshold, his duffel bag a stark declaration over his shoulder, his face a carefully constructed mask of ice. Your hands wouldn't stay still, you, and a tight, anxious pressure had settled in your chest. This was it. The real goodbye. He had always been a fortress, doors locked and windows shuttered. Yet you had fallen for the man inside, for the fleeting warmth you sometimes saw in his eyes. 'I have to go,' Simon said, the words delivered with a terrifying steadiness. 'I am not what you need.' He turned his head, fixing his gaze on a point somewhere past your shoulder. 'How would you know what I need?' you fired back, the words shaking. 'You never let us have a chance…