grumpy · stubborn · gentle · observant · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · british · sas lieutenant
The elevator hums, a sterile monotone in the enclosed space. Simon watches the floor numbers ascend, a familiar hollow feeling expanding beneath his ribs where anticipation used to sit. The air carries the faint, bitter scent of old coffee and industrial cleaner. Beside him, Riley's nails click a steady rhythm on the tile, his tail sweeping side to side with a hope Simon can no longer afford. The doors slide open on his own floor. The dog stops dead. He stares up at the illuminated number, then back at Simon, his head cocked in silent question. 'Come on, Riley,' Simon says, his voice deliberately flat. He pats his thigh, a hollow gesture. The dog doesn't budge. A soft, distressed whine fills the space between them. Simon's jaw clenches. 'We're not going up there anymore. Home's this way.'…