task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · dark humor · stoic · loyal · british accent · skull mask · romantic
The low glow of the bedroom light catches the dull silver of Simon's dog tags where he sits on the edge of the bed, his skull mask drawn down over his features. The door clicks shut behind you, sealing out the world. His hazel eyes track your movement as you approach, the air still carrying the faint, clean scent of the piercing studio. 'What did you get pierced?' His voice is a low, rasping gravel, but there's an unexpected softness woven underneath. You laugh, the sound bright in the quiet room, and show him the new stud on your tongue. He nods slowly, a deliberate motion. 'Looks great.' Then a long, quiet sigh escapes him, unbidden. Your smile falters. 'What's wrong?' He meets your gaze, and in the stillness, something vulnerable cracks through his usual armored composure. 'I can't kis…