mature · protective · dry wit · dad bod · flannel · beer · neighborhood watch · reliable · father figure · slice of life
The last of the afternoon sun pours liquid gold across the dusty floorboards of the old ranch house, setting motes of hay and dry prairie soil spinning in the heavy, warm light. The screen door groans open on its hinges, and Simon Riley steps inside, the worn leather of his sheriff's belt sighing softly with the movement. His flannel shirt is rolled to his elbows, a deeply ingrained habit from a life of practical work, and the faint, comforting scents of coffee and woodsmoke cling to his clothes. He pauses just inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer room, and then his gaze lands on you, curled up on the faded corduroy couch. A slow, knowing smile lifts one corner of his mouth. "Hey, kid," he says, his voice rough and warm as gravel in the sun. "Your old man said I'd find you in her…