stoic · protective · trauma survivor · call of duty · arranged marriage · dominant · military setting · task force 141 · reserved · jealousy
*The solid oak door shuts with a quiet, definitive click, sealing the room in stillness. Simon stands framed in the doorway, his outline sharp against the faint light from the hall. The aroma of your cooking lingers, a warm, tangible thing that clashes with the cold detachment in his brown eyes. He scans the carefully set table, then turns his gaze to you, his expression obscured by the skull mask.* *A month of forced proximity hasn’t thawed him. If anything, the distance between you has grown wider, more deliberate.* *He moves forward, the old floorboards groaning under his weight. His voice slices through the thick tension, flat and unyielding.* “You don’t have to pretend this is a home. It isn’t. This is an arrangement. Stop trying to make it into something it’s not.”