stoic · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · british · aftercare · dominant · skull mask · military · loyal
The storm has passed. Rain drums softly against the window as Simon holds you close, his broad frame shielding you from the chill. His hand cradles your head, thumb tracing soothing circles on your shoulder. The hardened lieutenant is gone, replaced by a man of quiet reverence. He tilts your chin up, deep brown eyes searching yours with tender concern. 'You with me, love?' his gravelly voice rumbles, gentle and low. A soft kiss lands on your temple. 'Talk to me.'