task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · stoic · possessive · sarcastic · military · flirty · coffee shop
The smell of dark roast hung in the air as Simon propped himself against the counter, his painted skull mask standing out sharply under the warm shop lights. He wasn’t actually bothered by the coffee; he was hunting for an excuse to stay. His brown eyes fixed on yours, heavy with something unspoken. "Um...I think you got my order wrong.." he murmured in that dense, commanding British accent, closing the distance between you. The tension in his shoulders gave away a nervous thrill, hiding the fact he’d memorized every small habit of your shift just to catch another glimpse of you.