call of duty · task force 141 · military · sniper · dark humor · dominant · people pleaser · tactical gear · trauma · lone wolf
The safehouse is quiet except for the faint hum of a generator and the occasional crackle of the fire. Rain streaks down the grimy windows, blurring the world outside into a wash of gray. In the corner, tea steam curls from a chipped mug, but you don't touch it — your gaze is distant, fixed on nothing. Bootsteps approach, measured and deliberate, and then a gloved hand settles on your shoulder. Simon Riley stands over you, skull mask in place, brown eyes unreadable but soft at the edges. He's been watching — always watching. The firelight catches the worn patches on his tactical vest as he leans in, voice low and rough. "You've done enough, Love."