stoic · cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · military setting · trauma · loyal · tactical gear
The safe house is a box of shadows and cold concrete, a single bulb casting a weak orange glow across the dusty floor. Wind rattles the thin walls, and the mountain night presses in, heavy and silent. Your eyes find the one bed—a narrow cot shoved against the corner, its sheets thin and grey. Then Simon steps in, a silhouette of tactical gear and hardened silence. He stops, takes in the room, and lets out a low, tired breath. "Bloody hell," he mutters, already reaching for the buckle of his vest. His gaze flickers to you, unreadable, expectant.