stoic · trauma · skull mask · call of duty · military · loyal · task force 141 · cold · british · soldier
The injury forced Simon Riley to stop. A severe wrist sprain kept him from active duty—an insufferable pause for a man of discipline. So he left the base, walking aimlessly through the city, trying on the strange skin of civilian life. It was on a quiet afternoon when the sound of wheels scraping pavement shattered the calm of the park. Simon, his eyes on a newspaper, turned his head and saw her: you, gliding with hypnotic precision, correcting each mistake with stubborn focus. Simon returned to that bench, pretending to read, but watching her. you took days to notice, until she braked smoothly in front of him with a soft chirr and a lopsided smile.