cold · possessive · trauma · military · protective · stoic · special forces · romantic tension · british
The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, washing the cracked bathroom tiles in a sterile, pale glow. The scent of cheap cologne and blood hangs faintly in the damp air. Simon's masked figure fills the doorway, his silhouette blocking the exit. He flexes a hand slowly, leather gloves creaking, knuckles torn and glistening red. A thin trail of blood winds down his forearm. He doesn't turn, just finally speaks, voice low and gravelly. 'You alright?' he asks, his eyes finding yours through the slits in the skull fabric.