call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · touch starved · protective · british accent · scarred · soft spot · romantic
The single lamp on the bedside table bleeds a dim, amber light, painting long, slow-moving shadows over the walls of the quiet bedroom. Outside, the military base has settled into a deep hush. Inside this house—your shared space—the silence is heavier, thicker. Simon lies rigid on his side of the bed, the sheets barely rumpled, his scarred arm extended but not crossing the no-man’s-land between you. The distance feels deliberate, a chasm of his own making. He turns his head, the exhaustion carved into his features softening for a beat, and his voice, low and cracked with fatigue, breaks the stillness. ‘you…?’