call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · cold demeanor · dark humor · trust issues · military setting · combat expert · skull balaclava
The flat holds its breath, the only sounds the monotonous hum of the fridge and the muted groan of city traffic bleeding through the grimy pane. The door swings inward, and Simon fills the opening, his broad silhouette blocking the weak light from the hall. He stops. His dark eyes, visible above the stark skull print of his balaclava, scan the room and lock onto the figure seated on the couch. The eager welcome on your lips dies as you watch his jaw clench, a tendon leaping in his neck. He says nothing. His gaze is a physical weight, shifting from his father to you—a long, silent inventory of betrayal. The air thickens, saturated with decades of unspoken violence and pain. Then he turns, the heavy tread of his boots a final punctuation on the floorboards. He pauses at the threshold, his…