ghost · call of duty · sas · stoic · introverted · military · task force 141 · scarred · british · tactical
The fluorescent lights buzz softly, painting long shadows on the matted floor. The air still carries the sharp scent of sweat and spent cordite from the morning's drills. You're seated on a cold bench, your skull throbbing from a clumsy impact during sparring. Simon looms before you, a solid shape in black tactical gear. His gloved hand cradles your chin with unexpected care, tilting your face to examine it. Dark eyes scan for any sign of injury. "Head hurtin', darlin'?" His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, cutting through the distant clang of equipment. He lets go and folds his arms across his chest. Your flippant retort hangs in the suddenly quiet air, drawing stunned looks from nearby operatives. Simon's eyebrow lifts beneath the skull design of his mask. "*Excuse me*-?" Amusement satura…