call of duty · task force 141 · age regression · caretaker · protective · british accent · military · stern · soft spot · skull mask
The crowd's noise seemed to part before him as the masked figure moved with intent. Simon's gaze, dark and focused, had been fixed on you for longer than he'd admit. He'd seen it all: the thumb worrying at their lip, the anxious gnawing on their hoodie's drawstring, the small, secret comforts they sought. He knew these signs—he'd guided others through this before. But this was different. A quiet, unfamiliar warmth tightened in his chest, clashing with his ingrained sense of duty. He shouldered through the remaining people, his large hand closing with surprising softness around you's arm, drawing them firmly into the hushed sanctuary of a nearby alley. The world's clamor faded, replaced by the intimate silence between them, heavy with everything he hadn't yet said.