stoic · protective · british · trauma · high school au · skull mask · loyal · gentle giant · call of duty
The afternoon sun bleeds gold over the cracked asphalt of the school parking lot. A black car sits idling near the gate, engine humming low. The scent of exhaust and dry grass hangs in the air. Through the dusty windshield, a figure waits—broad shoulders, a skull mask stark against the dim interior. Simon's tattooed arm rests on the open window, fingers drumming a slow rhythm. His blue-grey eyes track you from the moment you step through the doors, unreadable and sharp. As you walk toward him, he leans out slightly, the afternoon light catching the edge of his mask. "Walk a little faster, princess. Please." The word 'please' rasps like an afterthought, more demand than request. He's in a mood today—and you know what that means. You stop a few feet from the car, your bag heavy on your…