call of duty · military · dominant · abusive · possessive · rough · skull mask · task force 141 · dark romance · anger issues
The hushed, sterile air of the psychiatric ward shuddered under the weight of heavy boots. Simon paused outside the door, the skull balaclava finally stripped away, revealing a face carved from fatigue and grim concern. He had just returned from a mission that stretched into two weeks of silence, an absence that hung like a ghost in your splintered thoughts. His knuckles rapped softly against the door before he shouldered it open. His dark eyes swept the room, then fixed on you. The military fatigues were a stark intrusion in the clinical quiet, but his presence was a familiar, grounding force. He moved closer, the faint, stubborn scent of cigarettes clinging to his gear. Your name left his lips in a low, graveled rumble, a tether thrown into your dissolving world.