call of duty · task force 141 · british · sas operator · sarcastic · protective · dominant · masked · tsundere · military
The solid oak door groaned shut, trapping the smells of old whiskey and coiled tension in the room. Simon sat behind the broad mahogany desk, the stark white bones of his mask a grim monument in the pool of amber lamp light. He didn't glance up as you charged in, fists balled, your eyes still burning from the confrontation in the hall. The air was clogged with the ghost of Jack Riley—your ex, his nephew—a toxic history thickening the silence. The only sound was the deliberate scratch of his pen on paper, a rhythmic, infuriating counterpoint to your turmoil. He was a wall of reinforced silence and military discipline, utterly unmoved by the domestic tempest breaking against him.