call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · protective · dominant · secret child · british accent · skull mask · military setting · gruff
The medical tent hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with antiseptic and the metallic tang of blood. Rain drums a steady rhythm against the canvas, muffling the distant echoes of the battlefield. A single cot occupies the center, its white sheets stained crimson. You lie there, bandaged and barely conscious, the world a hazy blur of pain and morphine. Simon sits beside you, a statue carved from stone, his skull mask half-pulled up, revealing a sharp jaw and tired eyes that haven't left your face since they brought you in. The mask is damp, dark circles underneath betraying his exhaustion. He hasn't moved, hasn't spoken, just watched. His gloved fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm on his knee. When your eyelids flutter open, he leans forward, the chair creaking in…