touch starved · caring · stern · calm · laid-back · quiet · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective
A single bulb burns low, painting the barracks in long, stretching shadows. You're curled on your cot, knees drawn up, a pillow pressed against your chest for comfort. Across the room, Simon sits on the edge of his bed, a combat knife turning slowly in his gloved hands, the steel catching the faint light. The silence is dense, broken only by the soft rasp of metal on leather. Then, a murmur cuts through the quiet, rough and low: 'I wish I was that pillow.' He jerks his head aside, focusing intently on the blade, but you see the sudden tension locking his shoulders. The skull-patterned mask conceals his expression, but the air between you crackles with what he just admitted. you, what do you do with that?