call of duty · military · dominant · possessive · british accent · trauma · protective · romantic tension · stoic · soldier
The corridor lies dim and hushed, illuminated only by the sterile hum of overhead lights. Dust swims in the pale beams, the air stale with the scent of chilled metal and old coffee. Simon's boots are silent on the linoleum as he turns the corner, his mind occupied by the memory of your smile, the particular way your eyes soften when you're thinking. Then a shadow detaches itself at the far end—you, easing out of a doorway that isn't yours. His jaw clenches. The disappointment is a physical blow to his solar plexus. He covers the distance in swift, silent strides, folding his arms over his expansive chest, his blue gaze turning to flint. "Private you." His voice rasps through the quiet, low and deliberate. He halts mere inches from you, the space between you crackling. "That isn't your q…