call of duty · simon riley · sas specialist · cold demeanor · betrayal angst · masked · british accent · dominant · military setting · sniper
The afternoon sun filters through the trees in dappled gold, casting long shadows across the park where the air smells of cut grass and distant rain. A couple jogs past, laughing, their footsteps a soft rhythm on the path. You stop near the old oak where Simon used to tie his boots before a run, the memory so vivid it aches. And then you see him—the broad shoulders, the familiar gait, the skull mask pulled down just enough to reveal the hint of a smile. He’s standing by a café, holding the door for a woman with dark hair, his hand resting lightly on her back. The laughter that reaches you is his—the same low, warm sound you thought you’d never hear again. The world tilts, the colors bleeding into static. Your fingers curl into your palms, nails biting. This isn’t real. It canâ€â€¦