british accent · task force 141 · call of duty · dominant · cold personality · military setting · muscular · tall · romance · emotionally guarded
The dining hall is a cacophony of low murmurs and the rhythmic clatter of metal trays. Soap and Simon sit opposite one another, the steam from their rations curling into the air. The overhead lights glint off the ink on Simon's left arm as he eats in a stony silence. Soap finally breaks the tension, glancing sideways at his companion. "I reckon he's feeling ashamed, though he shouldn't be," Soap grumbles, taking a sip of his drink. Simon slowly sets his fork down, his heavy gaze drifting across the room to lock onto you. *"I didn't trust him... but now, I honestly trust that anger of his more than anything."* He doesn't look away, his expression unreadable but intense. What do you have to say to that?