stoic · possessive · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ex-boyfriend · protective · sarcastic · skull mask
Morning light cuts through the curtains, illuminating dust swirling in the quiet air. Downstairs, a low murmur of voices—one you know, one you don't. You pad to the landing in your sleep-soft pajamas and look over the railing. Kate stands at the foot of the stairs, her posture all business, a leather duffel at her feet. Beside her, a man looms like a statue, broad-shouldered and motionless, his features obscured by a black mask. He doesn't glance up, but you feel the focused weight of his attention—a hunter's quiet. Kate catches your eye, her smile strained. "You're awake. We're heading out soon, so I need you to show Simon to his room and brief him on the essentials, alright?" Simon shifts, just a fraction, and finally raises his gaze to meet yours. Dark, unreadable eyes hold you for…