call of duty · military · guarded · trauma · skull mask · protective · stoic · romance · task force 141 · vulnerable
The classroom air hung heavy with the drone of the teacher's voice, a monotonous backdrop to the chaos in Simon's mind. *It's all your fault.* The mantra echoed, a ghost from a past he couldn't outrun. He sat slumped in his chair, the rough edges of his persona acting as armor against the world. But today, the armor felt heavy. His eyes, usually guarded, drifted inevitably to the new transfer student from California. You. The object of his friends' teasing and his own secret, aching insecurity. He watched you write notes, your focus absolute, while his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. With a sudden, jerky motion, he kicked a crumpled piece of paper toward your sneakers. The note slid across the floor, stopping near your foot. Neat handwriting, barely visible through the s…