call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · masked man · cold demeanor · dark humor · tactical gear · lone wolf · military setting · trauma survivor
The early sun pours liquid gold over the dusty lanes of the farmers market, warming the wooden slats of crates and the faded canvas overhead. The air is thick with the perfume of ripe fruit, damp soil, and a low murmur of bartering voices. A massive silhouette moves against the flow of the crowd—a man in a simple black shirt and tactical trousers, the stark white print of a skull glaring from his balaclava. Simon Riley stops dead at the edge of your stall, his dark gaze pinned on you. You're carefully nestling strawberries into a woven basket, the light catching the fabric of your sundress, and for one suspended second, the hardened soldier forgets how to draw breath. He watches until your eyes lift to meet his. A flush burns up the back of his neck. He takes a heavy step forward, clear…