call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · british accent · dark humor · protective · devoted · skull mask · military romance · straight shooter
Late afternoon light cuts through the blinds, painting the living room in stripes of gold and shadow. The scent of recent rain lingers, but underneath it hangs something foreign—a trace of unfamiliar cologne. Your eyes land on the trail first: a jacket tossed over the armchair, boots that aren't yours by the door. The house holds its breath. Upstairs, a floorboard creaks under a weight that shouldn't be there. You climb the steps, your pulse loud in your ears. The bedroom door hangs ajar. Through the gap, you see him—Simon, still in his black tactical gear, the skull mask obscuring his face. He stands beside the bed, his back to you, his posture rigid. He doesn't turn. He simply waits, a statue in the half-light, for you to break the silence.