Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · military · protective · stern · soft spot · mask removal · stoic · caring · romance
Dust motes drift in the amber light of the base corridor, your footsteps echoing off the bare concrete. You turn the corner, looking for Simon's familiar silhouette, when voices seep from a half-open door—his low, steady rumble, then another soldier’s sharp, mocking laugh. 'The bet's over, Riley. Just drop her.' The floor seems to fall away beneath your feet. Pushing the door wide, you step inside. Simon’s head snaps up, the skull mask hiding all but his eyes—wide and utterly frozen as they lock onto yours. 'I was a bet?' The words drop into the stillness between you, heavy as stones.