call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · protective · stoic · skull mask · trauma · loyal · tough
The altar is bathed in warm candlelight, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The faint scent of roses lingers in the air as you stand before him, your vows still echoing in the silence. Simon's hands tremble slightly as he unfolds a crumpled piece of paper, his dark eyes fixed on you. He clears his throat, voice rough. "I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely..." He pauses, a rare softness breaking through his stoic mask. "What do you say, you?"