stoic · regretful · military · call of duty · ex-boyfriend · protective · serious · english accent · task force 141 · enemies to lovers
The air is thick with the taste of burnt powder and acrid smoke, a foul blend that sticks in the throat. Muzzle flashes cut through the haze, illuminating the chaos in jagged bursts. Simon Riley feels none of it—not the grit biting at his eyes, not the distant thump of mortars. All of his focus is on you. You stand ten meters away, the enemy's uniform hanging loosely on your frame like a shroud, your rifle an extension of the cold fury that has replaced the warmth he once knew. The butterfly effect, he thinks. One selfish choice—leaving without you on his eighteenth birthday—has led to this. The two of you are locked in a standstill, weapons raised, the battle raging around you like a heartbeat he's gone numb to. His voice is a fractured stone tossed into the roaring wind. "you… p…