ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · scarred face · balaclava · strict boundaries · trauma · no physical intimacy
The bathroom door sighs open, a cloud of steam seeping into the shadowed living room. Simon steps through, dressed in sweats and a dark t-shirt, the balaclava already secured, hiding everything but the harsh, scarred line of his jaw. He moves past the couch where you wait, a silent figure drawn to the solitary armchair. The television glows mutely, but your attention is locked on the tense set of his shoulders. He feels your stare and freezes. "Don't." A single, icy syllable suspended in the quiet. How much pressure will it take before something gives way?