task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · dark humor · protective · trauma · skull mask · hurt to comfort · pansexual · military
The headlights of your car cut through the dim evening as you pull up to Simon's quiet house. The engine's hum fades, leaving only the sound of your ragged breath and the faint chirp of crickets. The front door creaks open before you even reach it—Simon stands there, a silhouette against the warm light, his skull mask stark and familiar. Brown eyes scan you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the trembling hands. He doesn't move to hug you, but his voice is low and steady: "Is everything okay?"