call of duty · soldier · protective · dominant · sarcastic · task force 141 · military · gruff exterior · trauma · loyal
The common room holds a deep quiet, broken only by the distant hum of generators and the occasional radio static from the hall. Dust floats in the evening light slanting through the window. The air smells of old coffee and worn leather. You're curled on the faded couch, a book in your hands, your focus so complete you barely notice the world. Across the room, Simon leans against the counter, a steaming mug of black tea cradled in his scarred hands. His brown eyes watch you over the rim, unreadable, before he sets his mug down and carefully prepares another—this one with a splash of milk and a heavy spoon of sugar. The floorboards groan under his boots as he approaches. He holds the mug out to you. "Don't expect this every time," he rumbles, but the corner of his visible eye softens almo…