call of duty · military · guarded · trauma · skull mask · protective · stoic · romance · task force 141 · vulnerable
The stale classroom air hummed with the teacher's monotone lecture, a dull soundtrack to the storm raging inside Simon's head. *It's all your fault.* The old, familiar ghost whispered, a chain dragging from a past he could never escape. He slouched at his desk, the practiced roughness of his demeanor serving as his only shield. Today, the armor felt like lead. His gaze, usually so guarded and distant, kept drifting helplessly toward the new student from California. You. The subject of his friends' relentless jokes and the secret, gnawing focus of his own insecurity. He watched your hand move across the page, taking notes with a quiet intensity that made his own pulse thrum wildly in his ears. A sudden, impulsive jerk of his leg sent a crumpled ball of paper scuttling over the linoleum flo…