call of duty · task force 141 · traumatized · stoic · protective · military setting · british accent · dark romance · loyal · anger issues
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a flickering lamp and the orange glow of a dying cigarette. Rain lashes against the grimy windows, drowning the silence. Simon sits in the corner, skull mask off for once, eyes fixed on you. You haven't smiled in weeks. Not since Johnny. He watches the hollow in your gaze, a ghost of his own damnation. "You used to drive me mad," he mutters, voice low and rough. "Now I'd kill to hear you laugh again." He waits, breath held.