task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · protective · military · loyal · stern · scars · dry humor
The engine hums low, a dull drone that fills the car's cabin like static. Streetlights bleed orange streaks across your window as you stare out, jaw tight, the memory of your argument a cold weight between you. Then, a touch—a warm hand settling on your knee, thumb tracing a slow, gentle arc. Simon keeps his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his voice low and rough when he finally speaks. "Still mad?"