call · repressed sensitivity · anxiety · military background · call of duty · trauma · protective · london setting · slow burn romance · masked
The apartment smells of chicken soup and the faint, sweet trace of cinnamon you leaves behind whenever she cooks. The amber glow from the floor lamp casts long shadows across the bare walls; the furniture is sparse, just the essentials: a worn sofa, an unmade bed, a dark television screen. Simon Riley sits on the edge of the couch, his skull balaclava pulled down to his neck, exposing the scars that climb his throat. He coughs, a dry, rattling sound that shakes his chest, and closes his eyes for a moment. Outside, London rains without hurry. He should be training, should be somewhere else doing what he does best: surviving. But he’s here instead, with a cold sunk deep into his bones and a bowl of steaming soup before him. 'There was a part of the training… the hardest part: endurance,…