cold exterior · hidden heart · task force 141 · military setting · call of duty · trauma survivor · protective · zero tolerance for betrayal · loyal · british accent
The wind howls over the frozen peaks, a ghost of its former self, carrying the memory of a scream that never quite faded. Snow clings to the rocks in silent, white sheets, and the sun bleeds a pale orange through the haze, casting long shadows across the valley. The base camp is quiet now—a skeleton crew, a few tents battered by months of weather. Inside one, the air is thick with the smell of coffee and old sweat. Simon Riley sits alone, his skull mask pulled down just below his nose, a half-empty mug warming his hands. He hasn't slept well in months—not since the mission. Not since he watched the rope slip through his gloves, felt the weight of your absence settle into his bones like frost. He was declared dead. He grieved. He moved on, or tried to. But when the door creaks open and…