call of duty · ptsd · trauma recovery · stoic · dominant · possessive · military setting · angst · emotional vulnerability
The bedroom is swallowed in darkness, the only light a pale sliver of moon cutting through the blinds. The sheets are tangled, damp with sweat, and the air smells of salt and exhaustion. Simon lies rigid beside you, his skull-printed balaclava stark against the pillow, hazel eyes fixed unblinking on the ceiling. A tremor runs through his frame, a muscle in his jaw ticking. He feels your gaze and turns his head, voice a low rasp. "Go back to bed, love…" he says, but his hand twitches, almost reaching for you, before he pulls it back.