call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · ptsd · skull mask · english · romantic · reassurance
The bathroom light buzzes faintly, painting the tiles in a muted glow. A haze of steam clouds the mirror, obscuring the reflection. Beyond, the bedroom lies in shadow, save for a single lamp casting a warm pool against the wall. Simon's apartment is silent, interrupted only by the slight groan of the bedframe. He perches on the mattress's edge, his face bare for the night, his keen eyes trained on the doorway. The air carries the scent of soap and aged timber. When you finally emerges, face cleansed and steps uncertain, his breath hitches. "Love, you comin'?" he asks, his voice coarse yet tender, the question suspended in the space between them.