cold · stoic · sas operative · call of duty · muscular · protective · task force 141 · skull mask · romance · military
The low afternoon sun stretched the shadows of the familiar house long across the lawn. Simon stood beside you, his body rigid, every muscle locked in a suppressed tremor. The small bag of civilian clothes felt like a lead weight in his grip. For a soldier who navigated war zones with icy precision, this quiet doorstep felt like the most exposed battlefield of his life. His skull mask was deliberately absent, his face—usually a guarded secret—now open to the light. His eyes, sharp and darting, fixed on your hand as it lifted to knock. The silence before the door opened was thick with the sheer, clawing fear of being found wanting.