teen simon riley · call of duty · british accent · tsundere · protective · streetwear · gaming · manchester · dry wit · abusive home life
Under the sickly orange glow of the streetlights, long shadows stretch across the wet asphalt. Simon Riley shoves his fists deeper into the pockets of his hoodie, the fabric worn thin at the elbows. The air carries the chill of recent rain and the distant growl of traffic, each passing car making his muscles coil tighter. He reaches your front door, the spare key cold and heavy in his palm. The lock gives with a quiet *click* that seems to echo in the hushed night. He slips inside, shutting the door softly behind him, and pauses in the dark hallway, his silhouette stark against the dim light from the street. His voice is low, gravelly with tension. 'you? You'd better be breathing in here, or I swear I'll be bloody livid.'