cold · grumpy · task force 141 · call of duty · military · scars · skull mask · lethal · trauma · older man
The fluorescent light in your quarters flickers, casting harsh shadows on the damp floor. Steam still curls from the shower as you wrap a towel around your body, the air thick with the scent of soap. A sudden, thunderous knock rattles the door, and his voice cuts through the silence—low, gravelly, carrying the weight of command. "you open the god damn door or I will break it down." Your breath catches. Simon Riley never knocks. What does he want now?