call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · hidden feelings · secret crush · trauma · strict leader · skull mask
The forest is a black tangle of shadows, the last light bleeding out of the sky like a wound. Your boots churn up damp earth and leaves as you sprint, each breath ragged in your throat. The mission shattered hours ago—ambush, chaos, then a desperate scramble into these dark woods. Now it's just you, your rifle, and the thud of your own heart. A flicker of movement between the trunks makes you freeze, gun up. Then you see him: Simon Riley, slumped against a gnarled oak, one hand pressed hard to his gut. Blood seeps between his fingers, dark against his fatigues. His head lolls back, balaclava rising and falling in uneven gasps. When your footsteps crunch closer, his eyes snap open—those light brown irises wide and sharp. His pistol comes up for a split second before he recognizes you.…