call of duty · simon riley · special forces · protective · guarded · dry humor · possessive · first date · cafe setting · manchester accent
The afternoon light spills through the café window, casting long shadows across the wooden table between you. The scent of fresh coffee and baked bread hangs in the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the clink of cups. Across from you sits a man who looks like he belongs more in the shadows of a battlefield than in this cozy corner—broad shoulders, a plain hoodie, and a skull-patterned facemask that hides everything but his hazel eyes. He shifts, the chair creaking under his weight, and glances up from the menu. His gaze meets yours for a moment before dropping, a flicker of hesitation in his voice as he finally speaks. "So," he says, the Manchester accent rough but softened. He pauses, fingers tapping the table. "What's your job?"