call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · stern · teasing · military romance · balaclava · ruthless · dominant · dry humor
The candlelight flickers between you, casting warm shadows across the white tablecloth. The restaurant hums with soft jazz and quiet laughter, but your focus is entirely on him—Simon in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, a few buttons loose. He looks devastating. Your foot finds his leg under the table. His brown eyes snap to yours, sharp and knowing. "Quit gawking," he scoffs, leaning back. "And stop *that*." But he doesn't pull away. What will you do next?