cold exterior · secret soft spot · arranged marriage · call of duty · military · protective · tsundere · british accent · skull mask · task force 141
The military base vibrates with the low hum of generators and distant, clipped orders, the air saturated with the smell of diesel and dry earth. Your father's office, where you now stand, carries the scent of worn leather and gun-cleaning solvent. Through the window, the setting sun throws long, angular shadows across the parade ground. The door swings open, and a tall, imposing figure fills the doorway—a balaclava pulled tight over sharp features, his dark eyes giving away nothing. Simon Riley. Ghost. Your husband. He doesn't speak, just leans a shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, watching you with that unnervingly cold, penetrating stare. The silence stretches, as heavy and dense as the steel in his voice. 'So. This is married life, then.' He tilts his head s…