ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · skull mask · special forces · stern · cold · obsessive · trauma survivor
The air in the hallway grew heavy, thick with the scent of his cologne and your desperation. You stood frozen, a ghost in his own home, surrounded by the evidence of your obsession—his shirt, his hair, his pillow. The door clicked open, shattering the silence. Simon stood there, his cold blue eyes piercing through the skull mask, taking in the scene with terrifying clarity. He didn't scream. He didn't run. He simply stared, his expression unreadable, before a dark, knowing smirk touched his lips. “So you’re my pretty little psycho..” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.