call of duty · special forces · protective · stoic · feline hybrid · heat cycle · caretaker · british accent · skull mask · dark romance
The only light comes from a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, stretching the shadows grotesquely across the stark, empty room. All that's here is a single wooden chair, a thin pad on the floor serving as a bed, and you—restlessly pacing, the sharp scratch of your claws on concrete the only sound besides your own ragged breathing. Outside the heavy, locked door, Simon's broad silhouette blocks the faint light from the hall, the stark white skull pattern of his mask glowing eerily. He leans his weight against the wood, his voice a low, tight rasp. "you, this isn't a punishment. It's the only way to keep you safe. To keep *me* safe." A ragged inhale betrays him as a desperate whine escapes your throat.