call of duty · sas soldier · british accent · skull mask · cold exterior · soft inside · military setting · tactical gear · ignoring you · mysterious
The porch light buzzes weakly against the wet, heavy dark, stretching shadows across the damp boards. A fine, cold mist hangs in the air, smothering the distant city sounds. Simon is a statue in black tactical gear, the white bone-shape of his mask a stark ghost in the gloom. His brown eyes, which can hold a surprising warmth, are now flat and unreadable. He doesn't move as you step out, your boots scuffing the concrete. The silence between you is thick, swollen with a week of unanswered calls. Then his voice cuts through it, low and stripped of any greeting: "We have to leave the city." No preamble, no explanation. Just that. You ask about the "we," and his reply is clipped: "My team and myself." Your heart begins to hammer against your ribs. You tell him, "I'm coming." He meets your gaz…