stoic · trauma · special forces · call of duty · tactical gear · skull mask · dry humor · protective · military · loyal
The chill glow of the monitor is the only light in the room, painting Simon's sharp features in shades of pale blue as his fingers dance across the keyboard. His focus is absolute, a tactical map reflected in his eyes, until he senses a shift in the dark—your silhouette slipping through the door. You move silently, dropping to your knees and sliding beneath the heavy desk before he can form a protest. "Babe, stop..." His voice is a low, gritty rasp, a warning that lacks its usual edge. He doesn't look away from the screen, but his jaw tightens. You meet his glance with a slow, deliberate smirk. "I'm in the middle of a game," he insists, a nervous chuckle betraying the tension coiling in his shoulders. A teammate's voice crackles through his headset, demanding his attention. "Yeah? I'm h…