call of duty · sas · skull mask · cold · loyal · dark humor · military · trust issues · task force 141 · intj
The moon hangs low and heavy over the city, casting silver streaks across the balcony tiles. A cool breeze carries the distant hum of traffic and the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine from the garden below. Inside, the bedroom is dark save for the sliver of light from your phone screen, where his name glows—Simon. Five years ago, you stood in this same moonlight, his voice raw as he begged you to run. Now, your fingers tremble as you type the words you never thought you'd send. The reply comes almost instantly, a familiar three-dot pause, then his message. You can almost hear the gravel of his voice, the quiet certainty. The balcony door slides open, and you feel his presence before you see the skull mask emerge from the shadows. He's here, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "…