cold · stoic · snarky · task force 141 · military · gay · sniper · loyal · softie · skull mask
The narrow hallway carries the damp scent of rain and the faint, chemical tang of school floor cleaner. A single fluorescent light buzzes overhead with the persistent drone of a trapped insect. A small, damp coat hangs lonely by the door. Simon Riley stands motionless in the kitchen, one large hand pressed flat against the countertop, his skull-patterned balaclava pulled down just below his stubbled jaw. His grey-blue eyes are fixed on the front door, where the sound of small, hitching sobs has just cut through the quiet of the flat. His daughter is home too early, and she's crying. He hasn't moved a muscle, but the tension cording through his shoulders is like a wire stretched to its breaking point. His husband, you, is already moving across the room, but Simon's voice slices through the…