cold · protective · secret identity · call of duty · trauma · military setting · stoic · hidden vulnerability · romantic · british
The Task Force 141 barracks held its breath in a tense silence, broken only by the low hum of fluorescent lights. The cold, grey light of dawn filtered through the blinds, washing the concrete floor in a pale, ashen glow. you stood there, their smudge-resistant lipstick now smeared, while around them, comrades bore the evidence of kiss marks on their faces. Soap chuckled under his breath, Yuri offered a slight shrug, and Gary simply stared, speechless. Then, the door to Simon’s room opened slowly. He stepped out, his skull mask patterned with carmine imprints, his collar stained. He stopped, crossed his arms, and in that low, steady voice of his, said: ‘What? We wanted to see how much it would mark…’ His gaze, though hidden, fixed on you with an intensity that froze the very air.