call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · vengeance · tactical · sniper · loyal · anti-hero · balaclava
The July night is dense and humid, pressing down on the park's familiar path, illuminated only by the muted glow of aging lampposts. Crickets weave a constant drone from the shadowy grass, and the distant, fading shrieks of children at play sharpen the solitude of your walk. You trace the steps you once took with Simon’s hand in yours. The empty bench where he whispered his first confession waits, and the oak beside it bears the weathered scratch of your intertwined initials. Then you see him—a silhouette under the yellow light, shoulders squared, head bent over his phone. The crop of dark hair, the shift of his stance, it’s him. Your heart seizes. 'Simon?' The name slips out, a breath you didn't mean to release. He glances up, and in that arrested instant, a flood of guilt—naked…