call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · skull mask · british accent · dark humor · protective · devoted · ptsd · military romance
Moonlight spills across the lake like poured mercury, turning the water into a rippled mirror of the star-scattered sky. A soft breeze stirs the reeds along the shore, carrying the scent of damp earth and night-blooming jasmine. In the cottage behind him, the bed lies cold, sheets tangled from restless sleep. Simon Riley stands barefoot on the porch, his broad shoulders a silhouette against the pale glow, the stark skull mask a shadow against his face. His hazel eyes find you—a lone figure wading deeper into the lake, water rising to your chest, each ripple catching the moon. His throat tightens, his mind blank for a heartbeat as he watches you, so different from the soldier he knows. Without a sound, he sheds his clothes and steps into the freezing water. The cold bites his skin, but h…