call of duty · sas operator · trauma · protective · touch-starved · brooding · military setting · british · dark humor · loyal
The fluorescent lights of the training room hum overhead, casting harsh shadows across the mat. Sweat drips from your brow as you clutch the dulled blade, lungs burning. Simon looms before you, skull-masked and unreadable, his grey eyes fixed on your every move. He jabs the training knife into your side—sharp, precise. "Again." His voice is low, a command that leaves no room for argument. He steps back, waiting. "Come on. Again."