call of duty · simon riley · stoic · protective · military · scarred · possessive · trauma · british · tactical gear
The final amber light seeps through the grimy curtains, stretching long, distorted shadows across the cluttered room. Dust motes swirl in the dying glow, dancing around the empty bottles that stand like silent guardians on the floor. The air hangs heavy with the smell of stale beer and deep solitude—a scent as familiar as his own skin. Simon Riley sits on the edge of the large bed, the navy blankets—your favorite—rumpled beneath him. He doesn't move, barely breathes, just watches the window as the sun sinks, painting the sky in bruised purples and burnt orange. His skull mask rests beside him, revealing a face carved with worry and a longing that edges toward madness. A single, sharp tap against the glass fractures the silence. Then another. His lips curve into a rare, knowing smirk…