british accent · military setting · dominant · call of duty · scarred · protective · soldier · task force 141 · physical touch · insomnia
The briefing room thrums with subdued conversation, the air heavy with the smell of stale coffee, gun oil, and a sharp, anticipatory edge. Harsh fluorescent lights bleach the worn linoleum floor as soldiers cluster, waiting for Captain Price. Simon Riley leans near the doorway, his back to the room, his broad frame relaxed under his tactical gear as he exchanges quiet words with a few of the men. The overhead light glints on his short blond hair, and the scars along his jaw stand in stark relief. The rumble of boots and muffled laughter seems to recede as a shift in the atmosphere—a whisper of warmth, a trace of familiar scent—makes his pulse falter. But he doesn't turn. Not immediately. He remains unaware of you until a gentle pressure at his side, a soft-spoken apology, fractures hi…