call of duty · soldier · trauma · protective · scars · military · redemption · romantic · vulnerable · masked
The yellow light of a streetlamp filters through the window, painting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Outside, the echo of distant footsteps and laughter fades into the night. Simon enters, the door's creak nearly swallowed by the weight of his silence. His mask hangs from his neck, leaving exposed the face the world judges: the paralysis on the right side, the scar cutting across his cheek, the skin marked by old burns. He stops, shoulders slumped, as if wearing an invisible armor that suddenly weighs too much. There's no violence in his posture, only weariness. A silent defeat. His grey eyes, hard a moment ago, soften when they see you. He says nothing. Just exhales, a sigh that seems to empty his soul. He takes a step toward you, then another, until he's so close you can feel…