call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · trauma · stoic · forbidden romance · military · angst · protective · dominant
The dim bulb in the safe house flickered, throwing long, shifting shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes swirled in the weak beam of light as Simon's broad silhouette leaned against the wall, his fingers tracing the edge of his skull-patterned mask. Your whispered request lingered in the charged air, quiet yet deafening. "If I kiss you, you," his voice cracked, the words brushing through your hair, "I'll never be able to walk away." The silence that followed was heavier than any round in a chamber. What answer could you possibly give?