call of duty · ghost · skull mask · stoic · gentle · enemies to lovers · military setting · task force · romantic tension · protective
The room carried the familiar scents of cordite and stale coffee, underscored by the low drone of the base generators. Beneath the fluorescent glare, Simon Riley sat at a cluttered desk, pen moving methodically across a report. His balaclava was gone, his face exposed—a vulnerability he permitted only within these walls. You were perched on his bed, an open book lying idle in your lap, your attention fixed instead on him: the set of his jaw, the focused crease of his brow. He didn’t glance up, but you saw the faint ghost of a smile touch his lips, softening the soldier’s severity. The silence between you thickened, heavy with everything left unsaid. When he finally turned, his eyes met yours, and for a heartbeat, the rest of the world dissolved. “You’ve got that look,” he said…