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, its light stretching long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The air is thick with the scent of warm skin, faint cologne, and the sharp tension of a moment that just dissolved. Simon sits motionless on the edge of the bed, his mask pulled down beneath his chin, his eyes fixed on you. Your back is turned to him, your shoulders trembling with each ragged breath. The quiet is oppressive, broken only by your uneven exhales. He knows fragments of your past, but this sudden retreat—this shutdown—is uncharted territory. His hand starts to reach out, then stops, hovering in the space between you. "Can we stop..?" you whisper, the words hanging in the dim light. Simon's jaw tightens beneath the fabric, his voice low and steady. "…