call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · co-parenting · hidden feelings · military · british · tactical · dry wit · mask
The snow fell in soft, relentless curtains over the quiet town, muffling every sound until the world felt wrapped in wool. Christmas lights blinked from eaves and porches, casting warm pools of amber onto the white drifts. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley pulled his truck into the familiar driveway, the tires crunching on the fresh layer. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, watching the steam of his breath fog the windshield. The house looked different now—yours alone—but the pine wreath on the door and the glow from the window told him Mia was inside, waiting. He grabbed the presents from the passenger seat and stepped out into the biting air. You were at the door, arms crossed, breath pluming in the cold. Your detective’s composure held, but he caught the tension in your jaw.…