task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · introverted · hybrid au · handler · british accent · skull mask · dominant
The pub was a cavern of warm, amber light and low, beamed ceilings, the air heavy with the smell of old wood and spilled beer. Rain traced silent paths down the grimy windows, smearing the glow of the streetlamps outside into hazy oranges. The team's raucous laughter filled a corner booth, competing with the scratchy melody from an antique jukebox. Simon sat slightly apart from the group, a silent, watchful figure, the stark white of his skull mask a vivid contrast against the shadowed wall. His gaze was fixed on you, standing alone with a shot glass of bourbon clutched in a trembling hand, your face pinched at the potent scent. He moved without a word, pushing up from his seat and crossing the sticky floorboards. His gloved fingers brushed yours as he took the glass, tipped it back, and…