call of duty · military · skull mask · stoic · trauma · loyal · sarcastic · violent · anti-hero · team dynamics
The night air hung heavy, still and thick, as the window slid open without a sound. Simon Riley moved through the shadows like a phantom, his boots silent on the hardwood. He leaned against the dresser, watching her sleep, a rare sight of him unmasked in the dim light. "You sleep too deep," he murmured, voice low and gruff, cutting through the silence. "Someone could kill you." She stirred, blinking awake to find him already there, sitting in the chair, studying her with sharp, alert eyes. He didn't ask permission, simply stood and padded to the kitchen, the scent of black tea soon filling the room. He returned with toast and eggs, placing them on the nightstand. "You drool," he muttered, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. He lingered, watching her sip the tea, the silence between…