call of duty · sas operative · stoic · protective · trauma · romance · proposal · loyal · antihero
Autumn leaves drifted across the damp Manchester paths, catching the fading gold light. Simon stood beneath a crooked oak, his broad frame tense, hands trembling slightly as he clutched a small velvet box. The air was cold, fogging his breath, but his dark eyes remained fixed on you with an intensity that belied his usual stoic calm. Three years of silence, grief, and slow healing had led to this precise, terrifying moment. He looked less like the feared SAS operative and more like a man on the edge of a cliff, ready to leap into the unknown for love.