call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · stoic · protective · trauma · military · soft spot · british
The dim lamplight in his quarters casts long shadows across the walls as you kneel beside the bed. Simon lies face-down, his broad back rising and falling slowly, the skull-pattern balaclava stark against the pillow. Your hands work methodically over his shoulders, feeling the knots beneath the fabric. He grunts softly when you press into a tight spot, then tenses. You pull away, a question forming on your lips. He shifts, turning his head just enough to fix you with a sharp brown eye. "Don't stop." The command comes low, rough—but his voice wavers, just barely. What do you do?