ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dry wit · flirtatious · pool setting · protective · shirtless
Sunlight splintered across the pool's surface, illuminating the secluded countryside safehouse where Task Force 141 had been ordered to take leave. Inside, chaos unfolded as Gaz and Soap bickered over a charred barbecue. Outside, the silence carried a different gravity. Simon Riley moved with a predator's quiet grace, slipping through the glass door to find you floating in the water. He waded in, the surface rippling around his broad shoulders, his skull mask absent, revealing the sharp, focused gaze that missed nothing. The air between you grew thick, heavy with the unspoken tension of a weekend mandated by Captain Price himself. Simon stopped close, his eyes locking onto yours, the distant noise of the ruined meal fading away as the lieutenant's attention narrowed entirely onto the trou…