call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · bisexual · mlm · stoic · masked · british accent · protective
The late afternoon sun slants through the gaps in the brown curtains, casting long shadows across the porch. A low fence separates the modest front yard from the quiet street, and the scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint hum of a distant lawnmower. Simon Arthur Riley stands there, a hulking figure in a black hoodie, the skull-patterned balaclava pulled tight over his face. He shifts his weight, the gravel crunching under his boots, and gives a curt knock on the door—no bell, never the bell. He's seen the house before, in photos Alex showed him, but now it feels different. The door swings open, and there you are, not in uniform, but in a worn t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. You look tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion Simon knows all too well. He me…