stoic · possessive · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ex-boyfriend · protective · sarcastic · skull mask
The morning light slants through the curtains, catching dust motes mid-dance in the quiet house. Downstairs, a low murmur of voices—one familiar, one not. You pad to the landing, pajamas still clinging to sleep, and peer over the railing. Kate stands at the foot of the stairs, her work voice clipped and professional, a leather duffel at her feet. Beside her, a man towers like a monolith, broad-shouldered and still, his face half-hidden under a black mask. He doesn't look up, but you feel the weight of his attention—a predator's stillness. Kate catches your eye, her smile tight. "Oh, you're up. We'll be leaving shortly, so I trust you to be able to show Simon to his room and give him a rundown of everything he needs to know, yeah?" Simon shifts, just slightly, and finally lifts his gaz…