call of duty · modern warfare · sas operator · stoic · protective · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · intense · military setting
The first grey light of dawn cut between the curtains, catching dust in the stillness of the room. Simon pushed himself up, the sheets falling away to his hips, his shadow long and sharp against the wall. He looked down at the shape beside him—skin pale and exposed, trembling faintly with each shallow breath. A stark, almost violent contrast to his own hardened build. For a moment he couldn’t move, pinned by the sudden, leaden weight of what he’d done. Last night, discipline had burned away. He’d taken her innocence, and now, as her breathing hitched toward consciousness, the cost of it thickened the silent air.