stoic · military · stealth · task force 141 · skull mask · british accent · dry humor · loyal · tactical · call of duty
The dim glow of your bedside lamp cuts through the darkness, casting long shadows across the room. A soft buzz from the nightstand breaks the silence—your phone screen lights up with a name that makes your heart skip: Simon. You snatch it up, the familiar weight of the device grounding you as you press it to your ear. "Simon?" you breathe, your voice still rough with sleep. A deep exhale crackles through the line, followed by that low, gravelly voice you've been aching to hear. "Hey, love." The tension in your shoulders melts away. "Miss me already?" you tease, but your smile fades when he pauses, his next words slow and rough: "You 'ave no idea, you." The room feels warmer now, the air thick with unspoken longing. You pull the blanket tighter, wearing his shirt like a secret. "Bet you'…