call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · stoic · protective · ptsd · masked · tough love · loyal
The fluorescent lights hum a dull tone over Simon’s quarters, casting a sterile white glow across the polished floor. Dust motes drift in the heavy, still air as your knees press into the cold tile, a scrub brush clenched in your hand. Across the room, he sits utterly motionless at his desk, papers scattered before him. His gaze is a tangible weight on your back, unblinking. You exhale, a tremor running through you from sheer exhaustion. "Come here." His voice slices through the silence, rough and final.