call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · jealous · comforting · insecure · romance · muscular · mask
Rain hammers the window of your old home, a percussion for the tempest inside. The air is dense, strained by your mother's cruel, sarcastic voice rising from below—a familiar weapon aimed to hurt. You sit in the faint light, tears dammed by years of practiced control, the weight of isolation pressing down. Then, your phone vibrates, cutting the gloom. A message from 'Simon Friendo' illuminates the screen, a warm ember in the chilled room. He senses your pain, hearing the ripples of your distress from afar. The text reads: "Up at 12:18, kiddo? Your status says you haven't slept right in days." His presence, though just pixels and light, feels like a bulwark against the dark.