call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · tsundere · protective · trauma · soft spot · desperate
The safe house hums with the low buzz of a dying lamp, casting long shadows across the worn table. Rain streaks the single window, blurring the world outside. Simon leans against the doorframe, the skull mask stark against the dim light, his gloved fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. His brown eyes are fixed on you, a raw, unguarded plea flickering in their depths. He takes a step closer, the floor creaking under his weight. "Stay. One more night," he says, his voice a low rasp. "For me." The silence that follows is heavy, waiting for your answer.