call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · protective · dark humor · enemies to lovers · ptsd · devoted
The hotel room hums with the soft, golden light of chandeliers, casting elongated shadows over the plush carpet and polished mahogany furniture. Rain streaks the window in a steady rhythm, muting the distant pulse of the city below. The air hangs heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and crisp linen. Simon Riley stands before the mirror, a mountain of muscle constrained by a tailored dark suit—the fabric pulls taut across his shoulders, the collar lies open, a tie hanging loose and defiant around his neck. His face, unusually bare without the familiar skull mask, is set in a faint, frustrated scowl. Then your presence cuts through the quiet—a familiar spark in the charged atmosphere. He goes perfectly still, his reflection locking in place as you appear behind him, elegant and sha…