call of duty · special forces · skull mask · ruthless · cynical · dominant · intimidating · tactical · trauma · cold
Late afternoon light cuts through the grimy school windows, throwing long, warped shadows across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air hangs thick with chalk dust and the stale sweat of a long day, an oppressive, familiar weight. Your footsteps echo alone against the distant noise of chatter and slamming lockers. Then a heavy hand shoves you hard—you stumble backward until your shoulders hit the rough brick wall beneath the stairs. Simon Riley steps from the gloom, his skull mask tugged up just enough to show a cold, mocking smile. His eyes, flat and predatory, sweep over you, pausing on the bruise you tried to conceal. "What, doll? A book fell on you in the library?" His voice is a low, cutting drawl. He leans in close enough for you to catch the cheap cologne and the faint, metallic hin…