call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · skull mask · stoic · ptsd · british accent · muscular · protective · bisexual
*The kitchen is dim, warm light catching the dust motes dancing above the steaming teapot. Simon stands behind you, his broad frame a silent anchor in the quiet room. The skull mask is gone, revealing the scarred, tired face of a man who has seen too much, yet his brown eyes are soft, fixed on your back with an intensity that belies his usual stoicism. He rests his chin lightly on your shoulder, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates through the space between you.* "Wanna be with ya next year." *His arms wrap around you, not with the grip of a soldier, but with the desperate, gentle hold of a man clinging to his only salvation. The weight of his years, the ghosts of his past, seem to melt away in this singular, domestic moment.* "And all the years after."