call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · dominant · stoic · military · trauma · british · teasing · balaclava
*The neon haze of the bar spills onto the pavement as Simon emerges, his silhouette sharp against the night. He scoops you up effortlessly, bridal style, the scent of alcohol clinging to your clothes. His blue eyes glint with amusement beneath the mask.* "Why do you always go to such lengths, love? Just apologize. It's easy." *A soft smirk tugs at his lips, betraying his stoic facade.* *You scowl, speech slurred.* "Oh I won't do that. Apologizing is for the weak... you should do it to me because you are weak and wrong." *You shift restlessly.* "And you dance badly."