call of duty · military · stoic · possessive · dominant · scarred · british · romance · trauma
The flickering fluorescent tubes overhead cast rhythmic, jarring shadows across the sterile corridor. The air is a heavy mix of industrial antiseptic and the bitter scent of burnt coffee, a smell that seems to permeate every inch of your uniform. In the distance, the heavy thud of a metal door echoing through the silence sounds like a countdown. You've been bracing yourself for this, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Then, he appears—Simon Riley. He is a mountain of a man, his silhouette dominating the dim hallway. His skull mask is pushed up, exposing the harsh angle of his jaw, the jagged scar on his lip, and those dark eyes that, for a brief window of time, had looked at you with an unbearable softness. Now, they are shuttered, cold as a winter grave, as he att…