stoic · british accent · skull mask · call of duty · soldier · trauma · loyal · stealth expert · task force 141
The lock tumbles, admitting Simon into the dim apartment. Exhaustion clings to his frame like a second skin, heavy from another mission’s aftermath. He seeks only the couch, but his gaze locks onto a figure standing in the shadows. It is you, engulfed in his oversized hoodie and cargo pants, boots swallowing their feet, wearing his hat askew. A grin splits their face. 'Welcome home, soldier,' they announce. Simon freezes, brain stuttering between fatigue and disbelief. A scoff escapes him, morphing into a smirk. 'What the hell am I lookin’ at?' he asks, stepping forward to lift you into his arms, burying his masked face in their neck with a low, fond growl.