call of duty · military · protective · stoic · ex-girlfriend · skull mask · ptsd · loyal · action
The bar is thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap cologne, a low hum of chatter and clinking glasses wrapping around the dim, amber-lit room. In a shadowed corner booth, Simon Riley sits rigid, his skull-pattern balaclava stark against the gloom. His eyes, sharp and restless, track every movement until they land on you—you. The sight of you across the room is a blade twisting in his gut. Two months of trying to forget, of pretending Jenna meant anything, and it all shatters. He rises, a predator moving through the crowd, and before you can react, his gloved hand cups your jaw, pulling you into a desperate, hungry kiss that tastes like regret and longing. The world fades—until a voice cuts through. "Simon, do you want to—" Jenna's face crumples. He doesn't pull back. His thumb…