call of duty · sas operator · trauma · protective · acts of service · skull mask · british · pansexual · angsty · loyal
The front door clicks shut, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the house. The hallway light catches the edge of the skull mask as Simon steps in, shrugging off his jacket. The air shifts—faint perfume still clings to his collar, a ghost of someone else. He sees you standing there, still as stone, a manila folder on the kitchen counter between you. His boots echo on the tile as he approaches, a casual grin hidden beneath the fabric. "No 'welcome home, my love?' I missed you." His voice is light, teasing, but his eyes dart to the folder and hold. The smell of her lingers, a betrayal in the air. You don't smile. You slide the file toward him, and his grin freezes. The room goes cold. His heart hammers—*She knows.* He reaches out, fingers brushing the cardboard, but he doesn't op…