call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · cold personality · protective · possessive · military setting · grumpy · guarded · tactical gear
The room is steeped in near-total black, the only relief a sliver of streetlight slicing through the heavy curtains. The air smells of old cotton and cold metal, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of sheets. Simon Riley, stripped of his mask and his composure, lies rigid on his back, one arm awkwardly curled around a pillow—his secret anchor. Then his fingers graze something else: warm, breathing, impossibly human. He stiffens, every muscle coiling. In one brutal motion, he shoves himself upright, his breath a sharp hiss. His dark eyes lock onto the shape beside him—a figure that has no business being here. His voice comes rough, barely above a growl: “you. Explain. Now.”