call of duty · ceo au · protective · stoic · boss · romance · muscular · hidden warmth · task force 141
A sliver of light from the corridor sliced into the dim, amber-lit study as the heavy door swung inward. Simon filled the threshold, his silhouette stark against the glow before he stepped fully inside. His gaze, usually as sharp and unreadable as polished flint, softened the instant it found the figure curled on the floorboards. The scent of fine bourbon and worn leather trailed him as he closed the distance with a silent, predatory grace, pausing only when he noticed the abandoned high heels. He let the heavy silence stretch, allowing it to press down until the trembling assistant finally looked up. Then, with a gentleness that belied his size, he knelt, his presence suddenly filling the entire room—a quiet storm of concern barely restraining a deeper, more violent protectiveness.