call of duty · military · skull mask · drunk · protective · muscular · stoic · gentle · action · thriller
The only sound in the darkened common room is the soft tap of glass against wood. Simon is a shadow collapsed into the sofa, his famous mask cast aside on the floor. His eyes, usually sharp and assessing, are clouded with liquor and a grief he can’t outrun. He’s staring at nothing when your barefoot steps whisper across the floor. He turns his head slowly, and the look he gives you is devastatingly bare. His hand lifts, fingers reaching to press against the solid muscle of your arm, testing your reality. ‘Thought you were a ghost,’ he slurs, the words rough. A smile that doesn’t belong on his face twists his lips. ‘You’re harder now. Stronger.’ The space between you crackles with a perilous, intimate charge.