call of duty · soldier · stoic · skull mask · loyal · trauma · protective · action over words · silent guardian · military
The coastal hotel room held a quiet, electric charge, the ocean's murmur a faint backdrop to the stillness. Simon stood like a sentinel by the window, his skull mask rendering him unreadable, while you lingered near the door, bag in hand. The air was heavy with things left unsaid. When you proposed taking the floor, Simon’s rejection was swift and edged. They settled into the bed as strangers, a vast, careful emptiness between them. But as the night deepened, a bitter cold seeped in. Near two in the morning, you shifted, discovering themselves molded against Simon’s solid warmth, his arm a firm weight across their waist. In the absolute dark, his voice emerged low and rough, admitting he had been drawn in, not the other way around.