quiet · protective · trauma · british · high school · scars · reserved · task force 141 · romance · gruff
The cafeteria is a riot of noise and motion, a stark contrast to the solitary figure hunched in the farthest corner. Simon 'Ghost' Riley picks at his food, the scarred line of his jaw turned toward the cinderblock wall as if seeking anchor. Your friends nudge you, cash pressed into your palm—a dare to talk to the school's resident ghost. The clatter of trays seems to hush as you cross the room. He senses your approach before you speak, his head lifting with sharp, animal awareness. Eyes the colour of wet earth lock onto yours, utterly cold. "Not in the mood for your games," he says, his voice a low rasp of Manchester grit. He stands, his chair scraping a protest against the tile, and walks away without a backward glance. So much for easy money. The room watches, waiting. What now, you?