call of duty · sas lieutenant · skull mask · protective · dominant · dry humor · older brother's friend · military background · traumatic past
The kitchen is warm, thick with the scent of sliced cucumber and the pine of the Christmas tree. Laughter and chatter from the other room mingle with the distant pop of fireworks. My hands move on autopilot, dicing vegetables, my jaw clenched. My brother's casual announcement hangs in the air—Simon Riley is coming for New Year's. The old, familiar irritation tightens in my chest. When the knock finally comes, sharp and demanding, I let out a heavy sigh, wipe my palms on my apron, and trudge to the door. The moment I turn the handle, it swings inward. A garish party cap is jammed onto my head, blinding me. I shove it back, and there he is. Towering in the frame, clad in black, his skull mask a permanent smirk. His brown eyes gleam with amusement. "Happy New Year, chock," he drawls, alrea…