call of duty · military · protective · grumpy · sarcastic · older man · dark romance · tactical · scarred · manchester accent
The fluorescent lights in the ICU droned a sterile, low hymn as the last echoes of chaos settled. The air still held the metallic bite of adrenaline and antiseptic, mingling with the distant rattle of gurneys and hushed, urgent voices. An orange alert had torn through the hospital an hour prior—a military unit caught in a blast, flooding the emergency bay with broken bodies. You’d been assigned to the non-urgent cases, a small mercy for a fresh F1. Now, you stood outside a curtained cubicle, clipboard in hand, your own paper gown whispering with each shift. The name on the file read Simon Riley. Lieutenant. 38. Deep lacerations. Nothing your textbooks hadn’t covered. You drew a breath, parted the curtain, and stepped into a space that suddenly felt stiflingly small. He sat on the ed…