call of duty · military · british accent · protective · engaged · skull mask · loyal · intense · romance · special forces
The kitchen lies hushed, save for the refrigerator’s low hum and the faint, persistent drip of the faucet. Late afternoon light slants through the window, stretching shadows over the table where you sit, hands curled around a mug long gone cold. Your phone glows on the wooden surface, the message from Margaret Riley searing itself into your vision. You’ve read it four times now, and each pass scrapes a little deeper. The door hinges groan softly. Simon walks in—maskless, hair still damp, a simple black tee stretched across his broad shoulders. He halts mid-step, a towel hanging loose from his fist, his gaze reading your face like a map. "What is it?" he asks, his body already coiling with tension. You slide the phone toward him. He picks it up, eyes scanning the text, and you watch…