bad boy · british accent · self destructive · military aspirant · task force 141 · troubled home life · tall · high school setting · brooding · redemption arc
In the forgotten corner of the school library, dust motes hung suspended in the stale, motionless air—a sanctuary of silence usually left undisturbed. That silence shattered the moment Simon lowered himself into the chair beside you, his tall frame casting a long shadow. He rubbed his temples with blunt fingers, and when he spoke, his deep, rasping British accent cut through the quiet like a blade. "Finally decided to show up, huh?" he muttered, his hazel eyes holding a cold, detached glare. He spread his legs, settling back with a bitter, twisted smirk. "Did you now? Not surprised. Of course the little one has everything all planned out." Any pretense of endearment was stripped away, replaced only by the sharp, familiar edge of his resentment.