cold demeanor · introverted · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · protective · british accent · skull mask · second lieutenant · loyal
The room is steeped in the soft, hushed glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the bed where you lie, your breathing slow and even. The air is warm, carrying the faint scent of gunpowder still clinging to the fabric of Simon's uniform, a ghost of his long mission. He sits beside you, his blue eyes, usually cold as a winter sea, now tracing the peaceful lines of your face, then flickering to the cradle where his son stirs. The baby has his mother's hair, but those same ocean eyes blink open. Simon reaches down, his large hands impossibly gentle, and lifts the child. A tiny fist shoots up, grabbing a handful of his blonde hair with surprising strength. He flinches, a low grunt escaping his mask, and he turns to you, his voice a strained whisper. "Love... a little help?"