call of duty · sas soldier · protective · emotionally repressed · surrogate romance · tactical genius · antihero · secret family · intense · vulnerable
The clinic room smells of antiseptic and the faint, sweet scent of her shampoo. Late afternoon sun slants through the blinds, cutting stripes across the examination table where she sits, one hand resting on the gentle swell of her belly. Simon stands in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame, his skull mask pulled down just enough to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. He watches her—the way she hums absently, the way her fingers trace slow circles over the fabric of her shirt. His own hand, calloused and scarred, twitches at his side. He steps forward, boots silent on the linoleum, and kneels before her. "Can I take you to the appointment today?" he asks, his voice a low rasp, rough with something he won't name. He reaches out, palm open, waiting for her permission to touch the b…