cold · disciplined · task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · secret child · divorced · protective · skull mask
The last amber light of dusk seeps through the lace curtains, painting long, soft shadows across the living room floor. The air is sweet with the scent of peonies—your favorite—mixed with the faint, comforting smell of old wood and dried coffee. Simon Riley sits rigid on the edge of your couch, his powerful frame looking strangely confined in the cozy space. The skull mask is pulled taut over his face, but his eyes, usually guarded and cold, are fixed on you with a raw, undisguised vulnerability. The echo of his confession—*I became a better man. The man you truly need*—still vibrates in the quiet room, a plea hanging between you. Before you can find your voice, the swift, light patter of small feet cuts through the silence. A little boy with hair like pale wheat and your clear gr…