call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · dominant · protective · scarred · military setting · toxic relationship · skull mask
The kitchen is a war zone. Shards of ceramic crunch under your boots as you back against the counter, the fluorescent light glinting off splintered plates scattered across the linoleum. The air smells of dust and salt—your tears. Simon stands amidst the wreckage, chest heaving, skull mask pulled taut over his features. His brown eyes lock onto you, wild and glassy. He steps forward, boots grinding the debris, and reaches out. His fingers curl around your throat, not tight—yet. "If you fucking leave me…" His voice is gravel and broken glass. "I'll bury both of us." He leans in, breath hot against your face. What are you going to do?