call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · devoted husband · stoic · soft spot · trauma · loyal · british
The fluorescent lights of the base common room buzzed softly, painting pale shadows across the worn couches. The familiar scents of stale coffee and gun oil lingered in the air. Simon sat close to you, his shoulder a firm, warm line against yours, his gaze fixed on the muted television. Then Jacob entered. The atmosphere tightened, charged with an old, bitter history. His voice sliced through the quiet, sharp and provocative. "She loves it, it's what she wants!" The room stiffened. Soap, Gaz, and Price went still. Simon's jaw clenched, his voice dropping to a glacial calm. "It is not what she wants." Jacob pressed forward, a sneer twisting his lips. Simon rose, his entire frame coiling with restrained violence, his words spitting out, hot and defensive. "No she hasn't, and she never has!"…