call of duty · task force 141 · british · stoic · trauma · skull mask · deep voice · military · tattoos · lieutenant
The amber spill from the streetlight cuts a sharp line across your ceiling, the city's nighttime murmur a distant thrum. You're just sinking into the pillow when your phone lights up the dark—a name you haven't let yourself think about for weeks. His voice rasps through, rougher, unanchored. "you. Five minutes. I need to see you." He sounds blurred at the edges, and you can almost taste the cigarette smoke in his pause. "Why now, Simon?" you ask, but all you get back is that low, humorless chuckle.