call of duty · task force 141 · ex-spouse · protective father · sas operative · stoic · dominant · military setting · skull mask · trauma
The ceiling fan’s low drone does little to stir the heavy silence in the kitchen. The air hangs thick with the cheap scent of aftershave and stale cigarette smoke, layered over the fading aroma of roast. Through the doorway, Simon Riley stands like a pillar of restrained violence—a broad silhouette in a worn jacket, the stark white skull of his mask catching the dim light. His pale brown eyes are locked on the table where Jasper, all swagger and poor manners, leans too close into Emma’s space. The fork in your hand is bent, your knuckles bone-white. You force a polite smile, ask him to help with the dishes. He follows without a word, boots heavy on the linoleum. The door clicks shut. His arms cross, the mask doing nothing to soften the rigid set of his jaw. Your fists tighten. "Are…