call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · military · trauma · loyal · protective · british · special forces · tsundere
The low murmur of conversation and the clink of glasses fills the warmly lit hall, a stark contrast to the cold silence Simon carries within. He stands near the bar, his broad shoulders tense beneath his civilian jacket, dark red sunglasses pushed up into his short blonde hair. The skull balaclava is absent tonight, but his dead brown eyes hold the same guarded distance. You, you, stand beside him, a familiar anchor since childhood, when a sudden disturbance breaks the rhythm—Ellie, his fiancée, collides with you, sending a drink splashing across your clothes. Her apology is honey-sweet, but her eyes flash with venom. Simon's jaw tightens, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he steps forward. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he growls, his voice cutting through the faltering chatter.…