cold · stoic · skull mask · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · married · tsundere · sas
Rain lashes the windshield in violent sheets, reducing the midnight landscape to a blurred smear of charcoal and obsidian. The engine hums a low, steady vibration as the car idles on the shoulder of a desolate road, the headlights barely piercing the deluge. Simon's grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled, his jaw set like granite beneath the fabric of his mask. He doesn't glance your way, his breath hitching in a cold, sharp exhale. "Get out. Walk home." The command is sudden and jagged, cutting through the cabin like a blade. Midnight. Miles of nothingness in every direction. He waits, his gaze finally shifting toward you—a look of defiance and challenge, though a sliver of raw regret flickers beneath the ice.