call of duty · soldier · dominant · protective · british accent · camping · romance · scarred · loyal · dry wit
The forest breathes around them, a slow exhale of pine and damp earth as the fire crackles and spits embers into the star-scattered sky. Simon Riley sits with his back against a fallen log, shoulders broad even in the dim light, one knee bent, a half-empty beer dangling from his fingers. The noise of the evening has softened into a low hum as his teammates settle, their voices blending with the whisper of wind through the trees. His blue eyes, sharp and observant, drift across the flames. They land on you. On the other side of the circle, the fire paints your face in warm gold and shadow, catching the curve of your jaw, the softness of your expression. He watches the way you laugh at something Price says, the way the light flickers in your eyes. Something in his chest tightens. He's been…