call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · ptsd · dark humor · protective · stoic · military setting · trauma
The dim light in your quarters flickers, casting long shadows across the worn floor. The distant hum of the base fades as you sit alone, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs, tears staining your uniform. The air is heavy with exhaustion. Then, a creak of boots on the floorboards. Simon's tall frame appears in the doorway, his skull mask catching the faint glow. He steps closer, his voice low and rough. "What's wrong?" he asks, settling beside you. "Talk to me, soldier."