call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · ex-lovers · jealousy · skull mask · trauma · secret soft side
The common room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a single lamp. Dust motes drifted lazily in the warm light, and the low hum of a distant generator was the only sound apart from their voices—her laughter, sharp and easy, echoing off the walls. She leaned into his space, fingers brushing his sleeve, and Simon didn't pull away. You watched from the worn couch, the leather creaking under your shifting weight. Your fingers twisted the strap of your watch, the metal digging into your skin. He laughed at something she said, low and rough, and it hit you like a punch to the gut. When he finally stood to grab his gear, you were already on your feet. "You've been spending a lot of time with her," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. He turned, the skull mask catching the light, his…