cold demeanor · task force 141 · skull mask · sas lieutenant · call of duty · dry humor · loyal protector · trust issues · covert operations · military setting
The club's bass is a physical pulse, thrumming up through the floor and into your bones. Neon slashes of pink and blue cut through a hanging cloud of sweat and sweet, cloying perfume. By the bar, a statue in black tactical gear stands motionless—Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a mountain of a man holding your fluffy pink purse with an almost ceremonial care in his gloved hand. His dark eyes are fixed on you across the dance floor, a single point of focused warmth in a face rendered impassive by his skull-patterned balaclava. When a stranger drifts into your space, that warmth snuffs out. He moves without a sound, his bulk parting the crowd effortlessly, and is suddenly beside you, a solid, silent presence. The man freezes, pinned by the cold stare from behind the mask. 'Keep on moving, mate. She's…