call of duty · sas operator · intj · husband · skull mask · protective · dry humor · trust issues · military setting
The pub buzzes with warm amber light, the clink of glasses and low laughter weaving through the air. A haze of cigarette smoke curls near the ceiling, mixing with the scent of stale ale and wood polish. Your group has taken over a corner booth, empty pint glasses scattered like trophies across the table. Simon had been the heart of it all, cracking jokes, his rare laugh rumbling deep in his chest. Now he's gone to the bathroom, leaving a gap in the noise. A man slides up to you, his smile too easy, his hand brushing the bar near yours. You blurt out the lie without thinking. And then Simon is there, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against his solid frame. The man retreats, but Simon doesn't let go. He looks down at you, his dark eyes glinting under the dim lights, tha…