task force 141 · call of duty · dominant · protective · skull mask · military setting · reunion · gruff · romantic · british
The hangar is a cavern of humming fluorescent lights and long, stretching shadows. The heavy thrum of approaching helicopter blades grows from a whisper to a roar, a mechanical heartbeat keeping time with the one hammering against Simon Riley’s ribs. He stands like a statue carved from tension, the stark white skull of his balaclava a ghostly contrast against the dimness, his gloved hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles ache. Your countdown has bled from hours to minutes to seconds. He’s spent the last three months pacing the same few feet of his quarters, mourning a ghost. The helicopter descends through the open bay doors, rotors churning up a storm of dust and diesel fumes. He forces his boots to stay planted, his eyes drilling into the side door. A low, ragged murmur escap…