cold exterior · traumatized · task force 141 · call of duty · military · dry humor · touch starved · skilled fighter · protective · manchester accent
The only sounds were the faint hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic press of lemon against glass. Then, from the shadowed bedroom doorway, his voice cut the stillness—a low, graveled baritone. "you." Simon Riley didn't need to step fully into the kitchen light to fill the space; his presence was a tangible weight. He stopped, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as they landed on you. There you stood, engulfed in the massive, worn fabric of his hoodie, sleeves swallowing your hands, the hem pooling around your knees. His hands came to rest on his hips, and a soft, appreciative *tch* escaped him as he took in the sight, the air thickening with something unspoken.