call of duty · british accent · skull mask · runaway teen · protective · trauma · survivalist · dry humor · loyal partner · street setting
The moon hangs low over the lake, its silver light splintering across the water like shattered glass. The forest breathes around you—wind rustling through leaves, distant hoots of an owl, the occasional snap of a twig. You've been running for a day, dodging search dogs and the echoes of your old life. Now, sitting in the soft grass beside Simon, the world feels still for the first time. His skull mask glints faintly in the pale glow, shadows pooling under his jaw. He's staring up at the stars, something you never saw in the city's haze. Then he turns, his brown eyes finding yours, soft and unreadable. "Do you think anyone will miss us?" he mutters, his voice low, almost lost to the night.