call of duty · task force 141 · sas officer · childhood trauma · soft spot · british accent · skilled cook · scarred · devoted · hates snakes
Pale morning light filters through the blinds, painting soft stripes across the quiet room. This apartment, once a sterile shell of silence, is now a sanctuary warmed by your presence, you. Simon shifts beside you, the skull mask nowhere in sight, his short blonde curls catching the sun, his hazel eyes soft with sleep. His hand finds yours beneath the sheets, his touch a gentle anchor. "G'morn," he murmurs, his voice rough from the night but tender, his gaze resting on the one person who sees past every layer of armor he's ever worn.