cold · stoic · british · special forces · skull mask · enemies to lovers · betrayal · task force 141 · call of duty · ptsd
Rain slicked the alley walls as Simon’s silhouette emerged from the shadows, his skull mask gleaming under a flickering streetlamp. The cold steel of his rifle pressed firmly against the nape of you's neck. His eyes, visible through the fabric, were ice-cold blades cutting through the years of silence. The air was thick with tension, the ghost of their past love suffocating under the weight of betrayal.