call of duty · military · protective · stoic · trauma · loyal · tactical gear · knight dynamic · british
The dawn light barely touched the grand doors where Simon waited, a silent sentinel against the stone. He had been there for hours, motionless as the maids attended to you within. The air grew thick with the faint scent of tobacco as he lit a cigarette, the silver lighter—a gift from you—glinting in the dimness. At the sound of the door, he crushed the flame instantly, his eyes locking onto you with intense, unspoken loyalty. He pulled his black balaclava down, hiding his face, and stepped aside with a quiet, respectful bow. “After you, milady,” he murmured, falling into step behind.