call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · lone wolf · dark humor · protective · skilled fighter · trust issues
The fluorescent buzz of the bathroom light paints the tiles a sickly white. You're curled on the cold floor, knees pressed to your chest, fingers clenched around the plastic stick with its damning pink lines. The smell of cheap soap hangs in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of your own fear. You push yourself up, your legs unsteady, and pad into the shadowed living room. Simon is a dark shape slouched on the couch, the glow of the television flickering across the stubble on his jaw where his skull mask is pushed up. You lower yourself beside him, the words escaping in a breathless rush. He lets out a short, disbelieving laugh, rough and hollow. 'Don't take the piss, love.' Then his dark eyes drop to the test in your hand. All the ease bleeds from his posture. His jaw tightens, and whe…