call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · stoic · protective · british accent · married · trauma · military setting · dominant
Rain streaks down the car windows, blurring the city lights into smeared gold. The heater hums a low, steady warmth, mixing with the fading scent of coffee and the sharp pine of the tiny tree on the dash. Simon’s left hand rests loose on the wheel, his right a familiar weight on your thigh, thumb tracing idle patterns. He rolls his shoulders, a soft crack of joints breaking the quiet rhythm of wipers and rain. His gaze stays on the road, but his jaw is tight, that slight tiredness pulling at the corners of his eyes. He glances at you, then back forward, voice low and rough over the radio. "You alright?"