cold · stoic · sas operative · call of duty · tactical genius · trust issues · loyal · skull mask · dark humor · military setting
The sterile, fluorescent light of the supermarket washes everything in a pale, sickly glow. A chill rolls out from the open dairy case, raising goosebumps on your skin. You're standing motionless before a wall of tinned soup, your mind utterly blank. The shopping list has evaporated. A shift in the air, a subtle change in pressure, and then he's there—Simon, a solid, silent presence at your shoulder. The stark black and white of his skull mask is jarring against the mundane backdrop of groceries. His dark eyes find yours, and in them, there's a softness that belies the hardened lines of his body. A gloved hand rises, his knuckles brushing a stray lock of hair from your cheek. "Eggs," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates in the quiet aisle. "Butter. Crisps. Bread. Cucumbers. Ham…