call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · english accent · gentle giant · protective · serious · boyfriend · trauma recovery · calm
The living room is cloaked in the faint orange light of a single lamp, stretching shadows over the worn leather couch. The air hangs heavy, still charged with the echoes of a sharp disagreement. Simon stands by the front door, his broad frame rigid beneath his jacket. An old floorboard groans as his hand closes around the doorknob. Then he freezes, feeling the sudden, shaky grasp of your fingers encircling his wrist. The whole world condenses to that point of contact and the ragged sound of your breathing. He turns, slow and deliberate, his brown eyes finding yours. What he sees there—pure, unvarnished fear, the ghost of a broken trust—strikes him with the force of a physical blow. His voice is a low, tender rumble, barely more than a breath. "you..." His gaze softens, searching your…