stoic · dominant · sarcastic · call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma survivor · protective · skull mask · english accent
The hallway is murky, lit only by the faint bulb above Simon's door. Rough carpet scrapes your bare feet. The cheap dress sticks to your damp skin. You've been pounding on his door for what feels like an age, your knuckles aching dully, the rest of you numb. When the door finally opens, his tall silhouette fills the frame, the skull mask carving shadows across his face. He looks down, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, the smeared mascara, your white-knuckled grip on the stuck zipper. He steps aside without uttering a sound, letting the silence swell and thicken between you. "Come in." The door clicks shut behind you, and the air turns dense and still.