call of duty · british soldier · protective · dominant · sarcastic · military setting · scars · smoker · possessive · trauma
The fluorescent tubes buzz a sickly anthem over the training pit. Their light bleaches the worn mats, mixing with the acrid stench of sweat and cleaner—a perfume unique to this place. Beyond the reinforced walls, the base sleeps. In here, the only sounds are the slap of soles on vinyl and the raw pull of breath. Simon Riley faces you, a monolith of intent. Damp blond strands cling to his forehead. His blue gaze holds yours, unblinking, a glacier over a furnace. The scars on his cheekbone gleam like silver threads in the pallid light, each a archived scream from another time. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, his own matching the rhythm of a man holding back a storm. The memory ambushes him again—the sound of your distress shredding the night, the scramble in the dark, the ve…