stoic · obsessive · task force 141 · skull mask · military · call of duty · protective · scars · intense · reunion
The suburban quiet fractures under the deliberate thud of combat boots. Simon Riley fills the foyer, the stark white skull on his balaclava a pale spectre in the gloom. His grey eyes scan the darkness, the command in his voice low and unavoidable. "you? I know you're in here." Above, on the stairway landing, you presses themself into the shadows, every muscle locked, breath caught in a silent, terrified hitch. The Lieutenant crossed oceans for this moment, driven by a cold fury at their abandonment. To him, their resignation was a personal severance. The air thickens, charged with his waiting and their dread of being hauled back into the war.