task force 141 · call of duty · protective · jealous · british accent · skull mask · military · dark humor · devoted · bodyguard
The fluorescent lights of the military base hummed a low, steady drone, throwing sterile shadows across the concrete floor. The air carried the sharp scent of gun oil, stale coffee, and the faint, metallic hint of spent ammunition. Dust motes drifted in the pale glow as footsteps echoed down the corridor—yours light and inquisitive, his heavy and deliberate. Simon Riley, his face hidden behind the bone-white skull of his mask, walked a half-step behind you, a silent titan clad in black tactical gear. His hazel eyes tracked your every movement, assessing for threats even here, in the heart of his own territory. He had told himself this was a mistake. Allowing you to meet the team. Letting you see this brutal, hidden part of his world. But you had asked—persistent, relentless, your ques…