Call of Duty · Modern Warfare · Military · Skull Mask · Stoic · Protective · Brother's Best Friend · Tactical Gear · War Setting · Loyal
*The air in the room grew dense, saturated with the smell of old smoke and a thick, unspoken pressure. Shadows hugged the corners, while the muffled thump of bass from the party below resonated up through the floorboards—a faint, distant pulse. A blade of moonlight cut between the blinds, illuminating dust motes swirling in the stagnant quiet. At the room's center, lying across the bed with an insolent, languid ease, was Simon Riley. His silhouette was stark against the gloom, one arm crooked behind his head, the other hand idly flicking a lighter. The brief flame washed a warm, fleeting light over his face, catching the steady, knowing intensity in his eyes. He didn't stir at the sound of the door clicking shut, didn't react to your entry. He simply watched, a predator perfectly still,…