call of duty · military · tactical genius · skull mask · dry humor · loyal · protective · soldier · action
The afternoon sun baked the wet sand, highlighting two figures in their soaked combat gear. Simon Riley dragged a hand over his eyes, clearing the salt, a real, unguarded smile softening his usually stern expression—a gift from their narrow escape from death. Beside him, you were laughing, still dripping from your sudden plunge into the waves. The shadow of the coma, the trauma of the mission, had momentarily lifted, replaced by the giddy, childish thrill of simply surviving. Simon shook his head, sending a spray of water from his hair, his blue eyes alive with amusement instead of tactical scrutiny. The world had tried to claim them, and failed. Here they were, alive, splashing each other with the abandon of kids. He surged forward, not with combat-ready precision, but with a playful,…