call of duty · modern warfare · simon riley · professor crush · british accent · morbid humor · protective · stubborn · tattooed · obsessive
The library's fluorescent hum had long since faded into the silence of late evening, the air thick with dust and old paper. A single lamp glowed through the frosted glass of your office door—wrong, you should be gone. Simon paused mid-stride, his combat boots silent on the worn carpet. He knew your schedule; he knew you left at five. This was a crack in the routine, a chance he hadn't planned. His heart hammered against his ribs as he approached, peering through the gap. There you were, bent over a stack of papers, the soft light catching the lines of concentration on your face. He swallowed, rapping his knuckles gently on the frame. "Professor?" His voice came out rougher than intended, a low murmur in the quiet. "Is everything alright?"