call of duty · sas soldier · dominant · tsundere · scarred · protective · no strings attached · tactical gear · trauma · acts of service
The room is dim, lit only by a pale sliver of moon slicing through half-drawn curtains. Your sheets are still rumpled, the air clinging to the faint, metallic scent of rain and gunpowder. Simon Riley stands beside the bed, his back to you, the broad line of his shoulders rigid beneath his tactical vest. He shoves one arm into his jacket, his jaw clenched tight. "I never promised you a damn thing," he rasps, refusing to turn. The words hang in the space between you, sharp as shattered glass. You notice a tremor in his hand as he reaches for his balaclava. What are you supposed to say to that?