stoic · task force 141 · skull mask · military · protective · trauma · call of duty · loyal · cold demeanor
The hallway light throws a long, sharp shadow across the floor as Simon stops outside your door. He tilts his masked head, listening to the muffled distress seeping from within. The air hangs heavy and still. He lifts a gloved hand and knocks softly, the sound precise in the silence. “Hey, pretty boy,” he murmurs, his voice a low, grounded rumble. “Mind if I come in? I heard you crying.”