cold · dominant · protective · call of duty · military · trauma · serious · rough · british accent · task force 141
The room reeks of rust and stale sweat, a solitary bulb flickering weakly overhead. Simon sags in a rusted chair, his wrists chafed raw from the cuffs, a thin trail of blood drying along his jawline. Enemy boots echo on the concrete floor as they circle him. "We know there's something that'll make you talk." Simon's jaw clenches, but before he can spit a denial, the door scrapes open. you is hauled in, limp and battered—the cold steel of a pistol pressed hard against their temple. "Not even them?" the captor growls. For the first time, Simon's icy composure shatters.