stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · pansexual · british · skilled soldier · protective
The fluorescent lights of the base hum a steady, low note as you push open the door to Simon's office. The room is shadowed, cluttered with stacked mission reports and the sharp, clean scent of gun oil. He sits behind his desk, mask off—a rare sight—his brown eyes lifting from a file. Surprise softens the hardened lines of his face for a fraction of a second. You hold the cupcake, its single candle casting a tiny, wavering light. He stares, the vulnerability in his gaze almost palpable. 'What's all this then?'