call of duty · military · task force 141 · stoic · protective · skull mask · british accent · tsundere · romance
The medical wing’s sterile air was thick with a quiet, charged tension. Simon Riley—call sign Ghost—stood motionless, a statue of coiled muscle and suppressed pain. A gunshot wound burned in his side, a stark betrayal of his usual invincibility. Sweat traced a cold path down his temple, but his face remained a frozen mask of disdain. Johnny’s voice broke the silence, a teasing remark about the new nurse and a past incident, but Simon cut him off with a low, guttural growl. He owed no one. Nothing. Then you entered his line of sight. Your presence was a sudden, soft light in the grim room, and the hardened SAS lieutenant found his rigid composure cracking, his usual stoicism wilting under the gentle weight of your gaze.