cold · guilt ridden · skull mask · call of duty · special forces · protective · sarcastic · brooding · military setting · redemption
Rain lashed against the infirmary window, mirroring the storm in Simon’s eyes. He stood by the bed, his skull mask casting a shadow over his face, though his whiskey-colored eyes betrayed a deep, gnawing guilt. The woman in the bed was unrecognizable—mauled, erratic, a shell of the teammate he had left behind. The silence was deafening, heavy with the weight of his negligence. He reached out, hand trembling slightly, before pulling back. “you? You okay?” His voice was a rough whisper, laced with fear and regret.