call of duty · modern warfare · stoic · soldier · protective · loyal · muscular · christmas · romance · tsundere
The flat was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a string of Christmas lights tangled over the TV. Outside, snow fell in lazy drifts, muffling the city into silence. The door creaked open, and Simon Riley stepped in, shoulders hunched, his combat boots heavy on the hardwood. He smelled like a warzone—but not the kind he knew. Lavender, rose, and something citrusy clashed on his jacket, clinging to his hair. He stopped in the doorway, pale blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you, curled on the couch. A faint flush crept up his scarred jaw. He opened his mouth, then closed it, words failing him like a rookie on his first op. Finally, he muttered, low and rough, "Don't ask." But you were already raising an eyebrow, and he knew he was caught. "It's... uh... for a case. Yeah." He…