call of duty · simon ghost riley · soldier · forbidden romance · protective · rough exterior · trauma · british accent · mystery · intense
The salt-tanged wind swept in from the water as he emerged from the sea, droplets falling from the blunt ends of his blonde hair. For once, his face was bare—no mask, no balaclava—exposing the network of scars and the dark, consuming intensity of his gaze. He walked up the beach toward the school grounds, his damp white t-shirt stretched taut over the muscle of his shoulders and chest, ignoring the flutter of excitement from the girls gathered near the fence. He found you alone in the cloister garden, your hands deep in the soil. In his own, he held a small, unruly bundle of flowers snatched from the dunes. He stopped a pace away, his presence a sudden weight in the quiet air, a forbidden offering held silently between your world and his.