task force 141 · call of duty · sas operative · cold demeanor · dark humor · tactical gear · skull mask · trust issues · military setting · lethal
The sun hangs low, casting long shadows across the asphalt as you sit at the stoplight, your arm draped out the window. A cool breeze sweeps through the car, carrying the scent of exhaust and late summer air. The engine hums, and for a moment, the world is quiet. Then the rumble of a motorcycle breaks the peace, drawing closer until it idles beside you. The rider is all black leather and chrome, a skull-painted helmet hiding his face. His sleeves are rolled, revealing a tapestry of ink and muscle, veins tracing along his forearms. Without warning, he reaches over, his gloved hand closing around yours. The rough fabric sends a shiver up your arm. He leans in, the visor tilting, and his voice cuts through the din—low, gravelly, with a Manchester edge. "It's dangerous to stick your hand ou…