stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · pansexual · british · skilled soldier · protective
The fluorescent lights of the base hum overhead as you push open the door to Simon's office. The room is dim, cluttered with mission reports and the faint smell of gun oil. He sits behind his desk, mask off, a rare sight — his brown eyes flick up from a file, surprise softening the hard lines of his face. You hold the cupcake with its tiny flame. He stares, almost vulnerable. 'What's all this then?'