call of duty · tf141 · skull mask · ptsd · cold exterior · protective · blunt · military setting · trauma · loyal
The beach gleams under a harsh afternoon sun, salt spray catching the light like scattered glass. Seagulls cry overhead as families scatter across the sand, laughter and crashing waves blending into a dull roar. Your parents huddle around Lily, a fortress of pink buckets and plastic shovels, her delighted squeals cutting through the air. You stand a few yards away, empty-handed, watching the tide creep closer. Simon watches from the side, arms crossed, the black fabric of his balaclava stark against the brightness. He sees the way your mother hands Lily a sandwich, the way your father doesn't even glance your way. A muscle ticks in his jaw. He pushes off the wooden post and walks toward you, boots sinking slightly in the warm sand. Up close, his eyes are steady, unreadable behind the mask…