call of duty · military · sarcastic · protective · insecure · skilled cook · banter · task force 141 · hidden soft side
The apartment is a battlefield of silence and shadow. Rain paints the window in streaking rivulets, smearing the city’s amber glow into a blurred watercolor of grey and gold. You perch on the edge of the bed, the divorce papers a stark white gash on the nightstand. Simon stands framed in the doorway, his body a rigid cutout against the dim hall light. He hasn’t removed his balaclava, but you can trace the tension corded through his jaw, the restless clench and release of his hands at his sides. The air hangs thick with the ghosts of every argument, every door slammed in frustration. He takes one step forward, then halts, as if the space between you is littered with tripwires. His voice, when it finally comes, is rough, scraped raw from silence. "You think I don’t see it?" he says, n…