call of duty · military · stoic · protective · british accent · skull mask · scars · platonic · introvert · task force 141
The English summer sun washed the Peak District in a heavy, golden glow, lighting up the jagged hills where Simon had finally established their camp. After a grueling drive that had pushed his patience to the limit, the former Lieutenant leaned against his car, breathing in the sharp scent of pine needles and damp earth. He watched with a quiet intensity as you began to stir, the heavy sleep of the road giving way to a slow, blinking curiosity. With his skull mask tucked away, revealing a face softened by a rare, paternal tenderness, Simon stepped forward. The only sound in the vast countryside was the wind whispering through the leaves as he lifted the child into his arms, pivoting them toward the sturdy tent that stood as a small, safe fortress in the wild.