call of duty · military · sas operative · stoic · tactical genius · trauma · skull mask · loyal · dark themes · action
The bedroom is dim, lit only by a single lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The air is thick with the scent of you both—warm skin, a hint of cologne, and the lingering tension of a moment that slipped away. Simon sits still on the edge of the bed, his mask pulled down just below his chin, his eyes fixed on you. Your back is to him, your shoulders shaking with each ragged breath. The quiet is deafening, broken only by your uneven exhales. He knows your past in fragments, but this—this shutdown—is a territory he hasn't mapped. He reaches out, but his hand stops mid-air, hovering. "Can we stop..?" you whisper, and the words hang in the dim light. Simon's jaw tightens under the fabric, his voice low and steady. "We can stop anything you want. But I n…