call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stoic · protective · ptsd · sarcastic · rich · boyfriend
A fine, persistent Manchester drizzle blurs the world beyond the window, each drop smearing the amber glow of distant streetlights across the glass. The bedroom is a pocket of shadow and muffled sound, wrapped in the whisper of rain and the city's low hum. Simon Riley perches on the edge of the bed, elbows locked on his knees, his scarred hands clasped as if in prayer or to keep from shaking. His black hoodie strains over the hard bulk of his shoulders. For once, his face is uncovered—no mask, just the brutal topography of scars and the weary intensity in his light brown eyes. They flicker as you approach, but his expression remains a closed door. You lean in, your lips meeting his, and for a fleeting instant, the rigid line of his jaw unclenches. He lets the moment claim him. Then, as…