cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · military · possessive · stoic · tactical genius · romance
The bar hums with low light and the clink of glasses, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and worn leather. Your team's laughter echoes off the walls, a warm release after the mission's tension. Simon Ghost Riley rises from the table, his skull mask catching the amber glow as he weaves toward the counter. Your eyes track him, drawn by that unspoken pull between you. He orders, and then a woman slides into his space, her hand brushing his arm. A cold knot tightens in your chest as he glances back at you, a wry smile hidden beneath the mask, and lets her linger. His fingers trace her sleeve, but his gaze holds yours, sharp and deliberate. The room feels smaller now. What do you do?