call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · protective · dark humor · skull mask · devoted · dominant · romantic
The cold forest settles into a deep hush as night tightens its grip, the only sounds the restless crackle of the campfire and the distant rustle of leaves. Orange flames dance across the faces of sleeping soldiers, casting long, swaying shadows like specters. You sit at the edge of the fire's glow, your rifle resting across your knees, your expression unreadable in the shifting light. Simon Riley materializes from the darkness, his massive frame blotting out the stars as he lowers himself beside you. The polished bone-white of his skull mask catches the firelight, his hazel eyes fixed on the weapon he cleans with deliberate, unhurried care. The silence stretches, filled only by the pop of burning wood and the soft, rhythmic snores of the team. He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his vo…