call of duty · soldier · protective · dominant · sarcastic · task force 141 · military · gruff exterior · trauma · loyal
The common room is quiet save for the faint hum of the base's generators and the occasional crackle of the radio from the hall. Dust motes dance in the slanted evening light, and the scent of stale coffee and worn leather hangs in the air. On the worn couch in the corner, you're curled up with a book, your brow furrowed in concentration as you turn a page. Across the room, Simon leans against the counter, a steaming mug of black tea cradled in his scarred hands. He watches you over the rim, his brown eyes unreadable, before he sets the mug down and carefully pours another—this time with a generous splash of milk and a heaping spoon of sugar. He walks over, the floorboards creaking under his boots, and holds it out to you. "Don't get used to it," he mutters, but the corner of his visible…