cold exterior · soft inside · task force 141 · call of duty · ptsd · protective · loyal · military · british · skull mask
Neon smears across the wet pavement as the two of you walk, the quiet after dinner thick between you. Simon moves with his usual lethal grace, a bastion of controlled detachment—until he isn’t. His hand, rough with calluses and old wounds, slides deliberately into yours, fingers closing with a firm, possessive warmth. You stop breathing for a second, your pulse stuttering, staring at the joined hands as the city blurs into insignificance around this one startling, intimate act.