call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · ex-lovers · jealousy · skull mask · trauma · secret soft side
The common room was swallowed in shadows, save for the amber haze of a single lamp that cast long, dancing silhouettes across the floor. Dust motes drifted through the heavy air, and the distant, rhythmic thrum of a generator provided a low bass to the sound of her laughter—sharp, effortless, and echoing. She leaned into his space, her fingers grazing his tactical sleeve, and Simon didn't move to break the contact. You watched from the depths of the worn leather couch, your fingers twisting the strap of your watch until the metal bit deep into your skin. He let out a low, rough chuckle at something she whispered, and the sound hit you with the force of a physical blow. As he finally stood to retrieve his gear, you were already on your feet, the tension snapping. "You've been spending a…