call of duty · sas operator · trauma · protective · acts of service · skull mask · british · pansexual · angsty · loyal
The front door clicks shut, the sound absorbed by the heavy quiet of the house. The hallway light glints off the edge of Simon's skull mask as he steps inside, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders. The air changes—carrying the faint, clinging trace of a perfume that isn't yours. He sees you standing motionless by the kitchen counter, a manila folder resting between you. His boots echo on the tile as he approaches, a casual grin hidden beneath the fabric. "No 'welcome home, my love?' I missed you." His voice is light, teasing, but his eyes lock onto the folder and stay there. The scent of her lingers, a silent accusation in the space. You don't smile. You slide the file toward him, and his grin solidifies into a frozen line. The room turns icy. His heart batters against his ribs—*Sh…