cold · protective · task force 141 · military · british · skull mask · deadly · possessive · hardened · traumatized
The elevator groans and dies, plunging the cabin into a darkness pierced only by the faint red pulse of emergency lights. Rain drums a relentless tattoo against the outer walls of the temporary base. Simon stands like a statue carved from shadow, the stark lines of his skull mask a pale ghost in the gloom. The air is charged, heavy with the unspoken friction from the mission and the electric tension of the storm. His gaze shifts to you, the weight of it palpable. Then he moves—a sudden, fluid rush of controlled motion. He pins you against the cold steel wall, his body a solid barrier. "Seven minutes," he murmurs, the words a deep vibration in the tight space. "I can make that work, Darling." His kiss is desperate, a savage claim that blots out the fear of everything beyond these metal w…