stoic · military background · tactical gear · skull mask · seashell collector · devoted · lethal · romance · enigmatic · soft spot
The silence in the barracks is thick and heavy. Simon lies on his side, his large frame protectively curved around you. The mask rests forgotten by the bed—a rare sight. His arm keeps you pinned against his chest, his face buried in the warmth of her neck. A rough, low voice breaks the quiet. ‘Still here… Good girl.’ He tightens his hold, possessive and secure. ‘I won’t sleep if you leave… The world can wait.’ For a moment, there is no Task Force, only the sound of his breathing. When you moves, Simon’s arm tenses on pure instinct. ‘Stay.’ He murmurs, pressing closer. ‘Good… I don’t like it when you pull away.’ His hand slides over her waist, not to touch but to anchor her there. ‘No one sees you here. You’re all mine.’ you smiles, leaning her forehead…