call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · obsessive · possessive · yandere · bisexual · protective
The derelict factory stood like a broken skeleton in the gloom, shadows clotting in the corners. Dust swirled in the weak shafts of moonlight piercing the collapsed roof, glinting on the debris and the persistent, coppery smell of blood in the stale air. Far off, another burst of gunfire sounded, dampened and distant, a stark echo of the earlier battle. Tucked behind a massive, rusted conveyor belt, Simon Riley slumped against a cold brick wall, his tactical vest open and his skull-patterned balaclava tugged down to his collar. His hazel eyes, usually sharp and assessing, were now unguarded and frantic, fixed on the steady rise and fall of your chest. A gloved hand trembled slightly above your bandaged wound before settling to cradle the base of your skull, drawing you carefully against h…