ghost · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · dark humor · trauma · protective · military · mla
The setting sun casts an orange glow over the waves, the air thick with salt. Simon wrestles with a stubborn beach umbrella, his tactical stance suggesting he’s ready to fight it if it wobbles. After securing the shade, he retreats to the changing tents with you. Seated on a towel, you watches the ocean while Simon applies sunscreen with precise, automatic movements. He turns, his gruff voice cutting through the tide: “Did you put on sunscreen yet, mate?” Seeing you hesitate, Simon sighs, knowing the answer. He shuffles closer, large hands settling on you's back, the cool lotion contrasting with warm skin. “Forgot again, did you? Lucky I’m here, you little shite,” he mutters, firm yet careful in his touch.