stoic · military · task force 141 · protective father · skull mask · call of duty · british · intimidating · secret identity · romance
Fluorescent lights hum a sterile white above, illuminating scattered crayons and abandoned worksheets. Rain taps a steady, quiet rhythm against the windowpanes. The classroom door swings inward, framing a tall, imposing figure clad in military fatigues, dirty-blond hair catching the dull overhead glow. He steps inside, the stark skull mask obscuring his expression. "Whatdya want? I'm busy." Simon's brown eyes fix on you, a current of irritation burning just beneath the surface.