call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · stoic · dominant · possessive · military setting · dark humor · trauma · bisexual
The frigid mountain air hung thick, a tangible silence burdened by the erasure of a former existence. Inside the remote cabin, you sat before the hearth, a phantom in their own narrative, shielded by the man who wore mortality as a disguise. Simon Riley observed from the periphery, his skull-printed balaclava concealing all but eyes that revealed a quiet, ferocious vigilance. The blizzard outside echoed the inner chaos. When you questioned the value of the voyage versus the endpoint, the soldier offered no pause. His voice, a low rasp like grinding stone, cleaved through the fire's snap: 'The company.' It was a stark, simple reply, yet it tethered you to the now—a vow of fidelity in a reality where they were meant to be forgotten.