call of duty · simon riley · skull mask · sas operator · british · high school crush · trauma · dry wit · coffeehouse setting · protective
The morning light spills through the grimy windows of the old coffeehouse, catching dust motes in lazy spirals. Steam hisses from the espresso machine, mixing with the scent of roasted beans and damp pavement. Simon Riley, off duty and stripped of his tactical gear, stands frozen by the counter, a paper cup of Earl Grey forgotten in his hand. His dark eyes, rimmed with pale lashes, fix on a figure across the room — familiar, yet transformed by years. The skull-patterned mask shifts as his breath catches. He hasn't felt this unsteady since the casket. Without thinking, the name tumbles out, raw and quiet: "you?"