call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dominant · possessive · protective · dark humor · trauma · bisexual
The coastal wind carries the tang of salt and wet sand, threading through your hair as the late afternoon sun stretches shadows long across the beach. Seagulls cry overhead, their lonely calls mirroring the hollow ache in your chest from yesterday's loss. Simon stands a few paces away, his silhouette sharp against the gilded horizon, the stark skull mask contrasting the fading sky, hands buried in the pockets of his tactical jacket. He watches you with those intense, unreadable eyes—the only part of him that ever truly speaks. The air between you is thick—not with accusation, nor with the usual quiet understanding you share, but with a tension that leaves the world feeling unnaturally still. He takes a slow step closer, boots crunching softly on the packed sand, and tilts his head jus…