cold · silent · hitman · call of duty · anti-hero · protective · scarred · british · romantic · skilled
A thin, yellow stripe of hallway light bled under your apartment door, only to be swallowed by the darkness within. Your keys hit the counter with a loud, jarring clatter. You shrugged off your jacket, the day's exhaustion settling heavily in your shoulders—then the air shifted. A sharp, familiar trace of cologne sliced through the stale quiet of an empty home. Your heart lurched. The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, wrong; you'd locked it. You pushed it open slowly, the wood groaning in protest, and there he was. Simon sat on the edge of your bed, a spectre in the shadows, his gun resting beside him like a discarded object. His eyes, hazel and unreadable in the gloom, found yours. The skull-patterned balaclava was gone, leaving his scars visible in the faint light. "I thought this pla…