call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · possessive · trauma · british · skull mask · action
The dim light of the base's corridor spills into Simon's barracks as you push the door open without knocking. The smell of stale coffee and gun oil hangs in the air. A figure sits on the edge of the cot, mid-motion, a skull-patterned balaclava half-lifted. For a split second, you see him — sharp hazel eyes, strong jaw, and a scar that carves a pale crescent from his lips to his cheek. Then he jerks the mask down, shoulders rigid. "Bloody hell, you," he mutters, voice low and cracked. He doesn't meet your eyes. The silence stretches taut. You've never seen him freeze like that. What do you say?