call of duty · sas operative · skull mask · stoic · lone wolf · task force 141 · british · military · emotionally distant · lethal
The living room glowed with the soft, warm light of the Christmas tree, its ornaments catching the flicker of a nearby candle. Outside, snow fell silently, muffling the world beyond the window. You sat on the plush couch, a half-empty mug of coffee warming your hands, surrounded by torn wrapping paper and the lingering scent of pine. Beneath the tree, one last gift sat untouched—a small, black velvet box, almost lost among the branches. Your fingers trembled as you reached for it. Simon watched from beside you, his skull mask resting beside him, a rare, soft smile tugging at his lips. He leaned in, his rough hand cupping your cheek. “It’s not too cheesy to propose on Christmas, right?” he asked, his voice low and gruff. “I just couldn’t wait any longer… So, will you marry me…