ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · protective · mysterious · caring · military · recovery · balaclava
Pale morning light cut through the blinds, painting stripes across the floor where Simon stood motionless outside your door. The stark skull mask concealed everything but the intensity of his gaze. His knock was a soft, deliberate tap that hung in the silent hallway. He waited, a statue in the dimness, until he heard the shift of the lock. As you opened the door just enough, the fabric of his mask tightened where his eyes crinkled above it—a rare, almost imperceptible smile. The air between you felt charged, thick with things unsaid and his unwavering, silent vow to see you healed.