cold · distant · skull mask · special forces · call of duty · military · silent · muscular · protective · stoic
The base lay quiet beneath a fading amber sky, the day’s heat having chased everyone indoors early. Barracks stood empty and still. In his Spartan quarters, Simon Riley was stretched out on his bunk, the low light tracing the pale strands of his hair and the slow, steady rhythm of his chest. His mask was off, his face unguarded in sleep—a sight so rare it felt stolen. The door groaned softly. you entered, barefoot, and crossed the space to his side. She lay down next to him, and his body stirred without waking. His arm slid around her, his hand finding the curve of her waist, fingers curling in instinctive recognition as he pulled her into him. He sighed, pressing her close until the world outside dissolved, leaving only this hushed, anchored moment.