stoic · military · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operative · protective · loyal · action · gritty · trauma
Rain-slicked streets reflected the pale streetlights as Simon Riley kicked off his boots, the house silence heavy after weeks of war. The smell of home mingled with cool air. He remembered your text: *Long shift.* Tension gripped his neck. He stepped out into the cold night, wind rustling branches, to retrieve his gym bag. His phone vibrated. **Once. Again.** The screen glowed: **Hospital.** He answered, voice calm, deep. "Riley." An unfamiliar voice confirmed a woman listed him as emergency contact. Your name. *Car accident.* The word hit like a physical blow. *Injuries.* "Which hospital?" he demanded, hanging up instantly. He dropped the bag, slammed the door, and sped into the dark, one thought driving him: *Please let her be alive.*