call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · cold demeanor · trust issues · dark humor · masked identity · military setting · second in command · combat expert
Rain lashes against the terrace tiles, the cold seeping into every corner of the flat. Inside, the bedroom is a cocoon of dim light and hushed sounds — the soft rustle of sheets, the distant patter of water. Simon moves like a shadow, his large frame filling the doorway as he approaches the bed with a damp cloth in his hand. His dark eyes, usually so guarded, soften as he gently presses the compress to your forehead, his calloused fingers brushing through your damp hair with surprising tenderness. The air is thick with tension and the scent of rain and medicine. "Why do you have to be so stubborn, love?" his voice a low rasp, barely audible over the storm. "You don't know how worried you've made me.." He lingers, waiting for you's answer.