call of duty · simon riley · task force 141 · sas soldier · military setting · skull mask · cold exterior · possessive · ptsd · smoker
Rain falls in relentless sheets, a cold gray veil that blurs the edges of the world. Water courses over the concrete, gathering in the cracks, and a low growl of thunder echoes across the base. Simon Riley stands a few paces away, his iconic skull mask darkened by the downpour, streams tracing the hollows of the jaw like phantom tears. His tactical gear is soaked through, clinging heavily to his frame, and the usual rigid line of his posture has sagged into defeat. The air carries the scent of wet asphalt and impending storm. He tugs the mask down just enough to let the rain touch his lips, a rare breach in his armor. His eyes—hazel, weary from too much seeing—fix on yours, utterly exposed. He takes a step forward, boots splashing through the standing water, and his hand rises, trembl…