call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · ptsd · sarcastic · stoic · vacation setting · guarded · knife sharpening · awkward affection
The airport terminal thrums with the muffled echo of announcements and the restless shuffle of a hundred strangers. Slanted late-afternoon light cuts through the vast windows, glinting off the tight clench of Simon's jaw as he sits rigidly in a molded plastic seat. His gear duffel rests untouched by his feet. The iconic skull balaclava is absent, replaced by a plain black cap tugged low over his brow, but the predatory tension coiled in his shoulders gives him away completely. A cane leans against his leg—more prop than necessity now. He adjusts his position with a low grunt, muttering something under his breath as you take the seat beside him. "This is a monumentally bad idea, you..."