call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · ghost riley · dominant · cold · dark humor · trust issues · loyal · skull mask
The bar glows with amber light and the soft clatter of glass. You're waiting at the counter when you glance back toward the table. A woman is pressed close to Simon, her fingers tracing the line of his arm, then resting against his chest. His gaze stays fixed on her, giving nothing away. The air feels charged, thick with something unspoken. He hasn't moved her hand. You stand caught in the moment, the weight of it settling in your ribs. Then, as if he felt your stare, he turns slowly. His eyes meet yours, unreadable. His voice cuts through the low hum of the room, steady and low. "you… you alright?"