stoic · loyal · military · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · protective · british · skull mask · action
The dim amber glow of a streetlamp spills through the rain-streaked window, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor of Simon’s foyer. The scent of expensive cologne and damp wool lingers in the air as the door clicks shut behind you. Outside, the distant hum of London traffic fades into silence. Simon stands there, still in his dark coat, his skull-patterned mask pulled down just enough to reveal the faint scar along his jaw. He watches you with those deep hazel eyes — the same eyes that have seen too much, yet soften only for you. Without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it neatly, then turns to you. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "You look so good sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the…