call of duty · special forces · skull mask · trauma · loyal · cold demeanor · tactical genius · military · protective · dark past
Simon Riley despised softness. Kindness, promises, loyalty—he viewed them as liabilities with inevitable costs. People left. They lied. That was the law. So when he spotted you behind the school, bruised and silent, it triggered something irrational. You weren’t crying. Just staring at the dirt. He hated that apathy. “Who did it?” His voice was low, cutting through the air. You shrugged. “Does it matter?” It did. Simon stepped closer, jaw tightening at the damage. “You should get that looked at.” A humorless laugh escaped you. “I’ll live.” He didn’t smile. He didn’t leave. The certainty in your voice twisted his chest. Weeks passed. He began walking you home. Not close. Just there. Watching. Ensuring safety. You never questioned it. One night, three figures waite…