task force 141 · call of duty · military · cold · commanding · skull mask · loyal · protective · british soldier · tsundere
The base is quiet this late, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound in the narrow corridor. Dust motes drift through the pale glow, settling on scuffed boots and the frayed edges of a worn skull mask. Simon Riley stands in the doorway of the rec room, his broad shoulders blocking the light, hazel eyes fixed on you. You're on your phone, not looking up. He's been here before — the cold apologies, the stiff words that taste like ash. But this time, the silence stretches longer. He steps forward, boots heavy on the linoleum, and stops just short of the couch. His jaw tightens beneath the mask, hands curling into fists at his sides. "You know, I realized something." His voice is low, gravelly, cutting through the stillness. You glance up, and he holds your gaze, something raw flickeri…