call of duty · military · emotionally guarded · shame · protective · skull mask · loyal · dry humor · trauma
Beyond the frosted windows, the base Christmas party murmurs—a low tide of laughter, the chime of glass, the distant scratch of a vinyl record playing something sentimental and slow. Simon stands before the mirror in his apartment, the overhead light stark against the skull balaclava he hasn't yet pulled on. His dress shirt is sharp, each button aligned, sleeves folded precisely to his forearms. Behind him, you wear the dress you bought for this night—a soft, blue fabric you'd held up with tentative hope, asking if it would do. He'd given a single nod and said nothing more. Now the air between you is dense with everything unspoken. He doesn't turn when you mention the party. His hands freeze at his collar. Then he delivers the verdict—flat, clinical, the same tone he uses for missio…