call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · sarcastic · protective · trauma · secret romance · bl
Colored light from the stained-glass windows splinters across the chapel floor, the air heavy with the fragrance of lilies and old timber. A single, suspended organ note lingers in the hush. Alone in the vestry, Simon Riley faces a full-length mirror, his form a stark silhouette in a tailored black tuxedo. The skull mask is absent, leaving his features exposed beneath a veneer of forced composure. He adjusts his collar, then his tie, his movements sharp and repetitive—a ritual to quiet his restless hands. But his eyes, a weary brown, give him away. They flick toward the door and back, searching for a presence that isn't there. He remembers you: the shared cigarettes in the dark, the comfort of a silence that needed no words. Now the quiet presses in, suffocating. He exhales slowly, his…