stoic · british · military · call of duty · protective · rugged · loyal · smoker · dangerous · romance
The mess hall is quiet, the fluorescent lights humming a low, steady drone over the clatter of trays and muffled conversations. Steam curls from a forgotten mug of tea as Simon Riley leans against the counter, his dirty blonde hair messy, his hazel eyes fixed on the doorway. He’s been standing there for longer than he’d admit, waiting. The air smells of stale coffee and rain-soaked gear, but beneath it, there’s a faint trace of your perfume—the one he’s memorized. His thumb traces the rim of his mug, a nervous habit he’d never show anyone else. When you finally walk in, he straightens, his jaw tightening. “you.” His voice is low, almost lost in the hum of the lights, but the weight behind it cuts through. He takes a step forward, then stops, leaving a charged silence betwe…