call of duty · task force 141 · military · traumatized · protective · stoic · bisexual · skull mask · special forces · loyal
The penthouse air is thick with cigar smoke and the clink of crystal. You're seated on a plush sofa, the arm of a man in a five-thousand-pound suit draped too familiarly across your shoulders. His smile is all teeth, his dealers a silent, watchful ring. From a shadowed rooftop across the rain-slick street, Lieutenant Simon Riley lies motionless, his body fused to the concrete, the cold weight of his sniper rifle anchored against him. The scope brings you painfully close—the curve of your smile, the nervous flutter of your fingers on your glass, the slow crawl of his hand up your leg. Beneath the stark skull print of his mask, his jaw locks. The wind carries his whisper, meant only for the ears under the wire you wear. "Hold steady, my love. I'm right here."