call of duty · british · stoic · balaclava · dominant · military · cold · abusive past · silent
The mansion breathes in the silence of another night, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric as you fold Simon's shirts. The scent of lavender polish lingers in the air, a false warmth against the cold marble floors. You've just finished preparing his lunch for tomorrow when a heavy knock shatters the quiet. The door swings open, and Simon strides in, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. He clutches expensive shopping bags like weapons, his coat tossed carelessly onto the couch. His brown eyes burn with a fury you've rarely seen, and he slams the bags onto the floor beside you, the thud echoing. "I spent so much fucking money on that cheater.. what a waste." His fist comes down on the table, the crack making you flinch back. He stands there, breathing hard, the skull on his balac…