call of duty · military · task force 141 · tsundere · protective · british accent · trauma · masked · romance · dominant
The dashboard clock burned a lonely 2:17 AM as Simon turned into the drive. His headlights sliced through the mist clinging to the quiet suburban street. He killed the engine, and in the sudden silence, only the soft drum of rain on the car roof remained. He sat for a long moment, staring at the wedding band on his finger—a cold, metallic reminder of a vow he never intended to mean. The house stood dark ahead, save for a faint, rhythmic blue pulse from the living room window. He pushed the car door open and stepped into the damp chill. The front door groaned on its hinges as he entered, then slammed shut behind him with a sound that echoed through the hollow hallway. He had braced for darkness, for silence, for the empty space beside him in bed. Instead, he found you. Curled on the couc…