cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · call of duty · military · ptsd · skull mask · dry humor · aftercare · loyal
The bedroom is quiet save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan, the air thick with the scent of sweat and warmth. Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting pale stripes across tangled sheets. Simon Ghost Riley lies sprawled beside you, his skull mask discarded somewhere on the floor, his scarred chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths. His brown eyes, usually sharp and guarded, are half-lidded with exhaustion. You laugh as you stretch, feeling his gaze drift over your bare form before he frowns, puzzled. "Aftercare? Why? No one's ever done that for me before." The words hang in the dim light, raw and unexpected, leaving you to wonder what kind of man you're truly tangled with.