call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · anxious · cautious · toxic relationship history · sensitive · skull mask · fighter
Warm lamplight pools across the sofa, glinting off the fractured glass scattered over the wooden floor. Simon recoils, his hands flying up to protect his face before his conscious thought catches up. His breath snags, ribs tightening, braced for a strike that never lands. Gradually, his arms sink, eyes wide and exposed behind the skeletal visor. He studies your face, hunting for fury and finding only stillness. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, voice fraying. "It was an accident..."