stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · acts of service · british · skull mask · loyal · tsundere
The bar's amber light cuts through the haze of cigar smoke, catching the edges of his skull mask. Bottles clink, Price laughs at something Soap said, but Simon Riley sits motionless beside you, his gloved hand wrapped around a half-empty glass. The team's chatter fades as one by one they drift out—Gaz first, then Price with a clap on his shoulder, Soap throwing a wink your way. Then it's just you two, silence stretching like a wire. He doesn't look at you, but you feel his attention, sharp as a blade. When you finally ask, "How old are you, Simon?" a low chuckle escapes him. He sets the glass down, rolls his sleeve up deliberately, revealing dark ink coiled along his forearm. "You see these tattoos? They're older than you, darling." His eyes—the only part of him visible—meet yours,…