call of duty · sas operator · stoic · military setting · tragic past · skull mask · loyal · hardened veteran · action
The heavy door groaned on its hinges, cutting through the safehouse quiet. Simon stepped inside, his focus elsewhere—until he saw you. Your back was turned, bare, marked by two severe, vertical lines you’d always kept hidden. He stopped dead. The mission briefing evaporated from his mind. His gaze fixed on the scars, unblinking. You scrambled for your shirt, heart hammering against your ribs, turning away as if you could undo the moment. Simon didn’t look away. His eyes held a weight, a sorrow that pierced every defense you’d built. His voice was low, strained with a worried intensity that demanded honesty. "What are those scars, you?"