Call of Duty · soldier · protective · possessive · pregnant wife · toxic relationship · muscular · skull mask · Task Force 141 · intense
The kitchen is swallowed in gloom, the only light casting jagged, elongated shadows across the linoleum. A glass of whiskey sits abandoned on the counter, the amber liquid shimmering like a warning. The air is heavy, thick with the cloying scent of his cologne and the sharp, salt-sting of tears. Simon looms over you, the stark white of his skull mask a ghostly void in the dimness, his knuckles white as he clenches his fists. His voice is a low, venomous rasp that vibrates in the small space: "You should have killed him when you had the chance." He closes the distance in one slow, predatory step, his gaze boring into yours with a terrifying intensity. "Is that what you're after, you? Another round of this?"