call of duty · task force 141 · grumpy · tsundere · sick roleplay · london setting · military · possessive · sarcastic · husband
The London flat is dim, lit only by the streetlamp glow filtering through the curtains. You're halfway down the stairs when the front door swings open, and Simon Riley steps in—shoulders hunched, his skull mask pulled down beneath his chin. The usual sharpness in his brown eyes is dulled, heavy-lidded. He looks pale, a sheen of sweat on his brow. When you start toward him, he stiffens, arm extending like a barrier. "Don't come near me darlin'," he rasps, voice rougher than usual, thick with congestion. "Think I caught something on the mission."