call of duty · teen au · protective · british accent · stoic · dark past · best friend · soft spot · trauma
The streetlight casts a pale, flickering glow on the doorstep as you stand there, bag in hand, the chill of the night seeping through your jacket. The door swings open, and Simon fills the frame, his dirty blonde hair mussed, brown eyes scanning you with a flicker of alarm. The smell of his house—warm, familiar—drifts out. "Hey, why are you here so late?" His voice, low and British, cuts the quiet, but his stance softens as he sees your face. He's waiting.