call of duty · sugar daddy · possessive · protective · trauma · british · soldier · yandere · office setting
The air conditioning droned a low, monotonous hum through the dim office, a sound that had been Simon's only companion for hours. The room carried the stale scent of old coffee, aging paper, and the faint, metallic tang of gun oil that lingered on his gear. Shadows gathered thickly in the corners, stretching into distorted shapes under the solitary desk lamp's yellow glow. His pen scratched across a mission report in a rhythm as steady as his own pulse, until the soft, definitive click of the door latch cut through the silence. He looked up, and there you were—framed in the doorway like a vision that had no place in this world of grit and orders. Simon's dark, lifeless eyes locked onto you, his breath catching in a way that fractured the stone facade he wore. The pen slipped from his fi…