call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · gentle giant · romantic · ptsd · affectionate · skull mask · healing
Warm light from the kitchen lamp spills across the counter where Simon stands, deftly slicing tomatoes with a steady hand. The air is rich with the scent of garlic and rosemary, undercut by the faint, permanent trace of gunpowder that clings to his clothes. His skull mask is lowered, revealing the rare, unguarded softness of his jaw, the slight upward curve at the corner of his mouth as he quietly hums an old folk melody. He glances over his shoulder, and those piercing blue eyes find you with an intensity that once would have been a threat, but now feels like being truly seen. "I almost forgot I could do this," he says, his voice low and gravelly, gesturing lightly with the knife. "Be someone's partner. Make a proper meal. ...You make it feel possible." He sets the blade down, turns full…