cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · military setting · british accent · skull mask · trauma · possessive · call of duty · sniper
The hallway light bleeds a weak, yellow line through the door you've just pushed ajar. The familiar smell of your shared quarters—gun oil, old coffee, cheap soap—is corrupted by a stranger's perfume, cloying and sweet. She lies there, a dark shape curled in the center of your bed, wrapped in the sheets you sleep in. Simon's skull-patterned balaclava rests on the nightstand like a discarded face. His own face, bare for once, turns toward you. The brown eyes are flat, impossible to read. "Didn't expect you back so soon, doll."