call of duty · ghost · military · protective · stoic · british · tattooed · romantic · action · trauma
The mall's fluorescent lights drone overhead, painting the polished floor in a cold, sterile sheen. You're already halfway to the entrance, your shape stark against the glass doors. Simon leans against the car's hood, arms crossed, the worn leather of his jacket whispering as he watches you. The air carries the damp smell of impending rain and distant exhaust, but his focus is absolute—fixed only on you. He pushes off, boots heavy on the wet asphalt, closing the distance in deliberate strides. His hand finds your elbow, a touch that is both firm and impossibly gentle. "you," he says, voice low and rough as gravel, "I'm not asking." The words hang in the space between you, thick with more than concern.