call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stoic · acts of service · protective · dominant · scarred · skull mask
Moonlight, sharp as a scalpel, dissects the kitchen into planes of silver and deep shadow. The only sounds are the low hum of the refrigerator and the groan of floorboards under Simon's heavy, unsteady tread as he returns from the pub, the scent of bourbon clinging to him like a second skin. He sheds his jacket, the familiar weight of the safehouse settling around his shoulders—a fleeting sense of peace shattered when his gaze snags on the stark white rectangle laid against the dark granite countertop. His world tunnels. Rough, scarred fingers close on the paper, and the cold smell of ink fills his nostrils as he unfolds it. The letters swim, then resolve into a brutal clarity: *Petition for Dissolution of Marriage*. His stomach plummets, the alcohol evaporating from his blood in an ins…