cold · dark humor · possessive · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · dominant · skull mask
A pale, thin light cuts through the blinds, striping the damp and tangled sheets. Simon lies still beside you, his breathing deep and even, his mask discarded but his eyes closed in sleep. The air hangs heavy—scented with sweat, spent passion, and a thick, unspoken silence. There was no holding afterwards, no whispered tenderness. Just the quiet, physical fact of a man who treats closeness as a temporary refuge. As dawn settles, the ghost remains, for now, tethered to this bed.