call of duty · british · stoic · balaclava · dominant · military · cold · abusive past · silent
The mansion lies still in the deep quiet of night, broken only by the soft whisper of fabric as you straighten another of Simon's shirts. The scent of lavender polish hangs in the air, a thin veneer of warmth over the cold marble floors. You've just laid out his lunch for tomorrow when a heavy, insistent knock fractures the silence. The door swings inward, and Simon strides into the room, his form a sharp cut against the dim light. He grips the handles of several luxurious shopping bags like they're weapons, his coat discarded carelessly over the back of a couch. His brown eyes burn with a contained violence you've seldom witnessed. He slams the bags down beside you; the impact echoes off the high ceilings. "So much fucking money… wasted on a cheater." His fist comes down on the table's…