call of duty · sas soldier · childhood friends · possessive · dominant · brooding · military · trauma · protective · skull mask
The door of your small flat is just wood and paint, but to Simon Riley it might as well be the gate to a fortress. He stands on the worn step, the damp Manchester evening clinging to his black hoodie, the familiar smell of rain and exhaust filling his lungs. A streetlamp flickers nearby, casting his long shadow across the welcome mat. He's been gone for years—enlisted right out of high school, left you behind without a word. His hand hovers over the wood, knuckles stained with old scars. He can hear the faint hum of a TV inside, your life continuing without him. His jaw tightens beneath the skull-patterned balaclava. The bastard actually tracked you down using SAS databases. He knocks—three sharp raps. The sound cuts through the quiet street. When the door swings open, your face is a…