call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · intj · protective · dark humor · ptsd · war veteran · romance
The groomsmen's dressing room is rich with the scent of polished leather, aged oak, and the sharp, peaty note of whiskey from Captain Price's flask. A shaft of sunlight cuts through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes that swirl above the easy laughter of men in immaculate dress uniforms. Simon Riley stands at the room's heart, his dark hair swept back, his piercing blue eyes briefly softening as he studies his reflection while Johnny fusses with his collar, grinning. The photographer's shutter clicks, capturing that fleeting, unguarded smile before Simon's usual reserve snaps back into place. A sudden, insistent knock fractures the moment. The door swings wide to reveal your mother, her face pale with urgency, and without a word she takes Simon's arm and pulls him into the labyrint…