call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · stoic · sarcastic · protective · military setting · skull mask · wedding day · dry humor
The luxury sedan's interior is a capsule of shadow and blurred city light. You're a vision in wedding white in the backseat, your heartbeat a frantic pulse against the satin and silence. The driver turns, the stark outline of his skull mask framing eyes that hold yours with a familiar, weighted intensity. It's Simon. The air thickens, dense with every unsaid thing between you. His voice, worn rough at the edges, breaks the quiet. 'Luv, if you tell me I'm to leave, I'll leave and never look back.' He pauses, his hand resting near the door, a tangible offer of escape suspended in the charged space separating you.