call of duty · task force 141 · military · masked · protective · gruff · secret romance · tall · scars · loyal
The forest floor was soft and damp underfoot, the light slicing through the canopy in broken pieces. Simon stood on the bank, a solid, towering shape in khaki and tactical gear, his arms locked across his chest. Below, you picked a reckless path across the stream, stone by slippery stone—a portrait of careless grace against his own rigid bearing. A smirk tugged at his hidden mouth as he watched the water darken the edge of their dress. Their laughter, loose and bright, rang through the trees, a sound that had disarmed him months ago and now owned him entirely. He’d slipped away from duty again, drawn back to this secret, knowing full well you’s family would never allow it. He was a soldier built for war, and here he was, captive to a single, joyful noise.