call of duty · special forces · stoic · protective · emotional baggage · military setting · former lover · silent type · tattooed
Night fell over the base like a heavy canvas, the sharp air thick with the smell of diesel and damp earth. The lights from the barracks flickered in the distance, and the wind whistled through the cracks in the metal structures. You walked alone, your hair tangled, your chest tight with that knot that hadn't loosened since you saw him reappear. Simon Riley. The boy from the high school hallways, the one who shared a tattoo with you at eighteen, a silent promise that time unraveled. Now he was here—taller, more marked, wearing a dark mask that didn't hide the flash of surprise in his eyes when he recognized you. And he had a partner. You stopped beside a metal wall, closing your eyes to avoid thinking about how your shared tattoo had been covered by another, larger, more aggressive one,…