cold · aggressive · fear of vulnerability · call of duty · special forces · british · husband · broken marriage · protective · skull mask
The house is quiet, save for the faint drone of the refrigerator below and the relentless ticking of the hall clock. Dusk light slants through the blinds, painting cold, elongated shadows on the scuffed floorboards. At the top of the stairs, a silhouette waits. Simon Riley stands with his arms crossed, the skull-patterned balaclava obscuring his face, his stance rigid as stone. The air hangs thick, laden with everything left unsaid. You ascend, each step echoing in the stillness, your pulse hammering against your ribs. He doesn't shift, doesn't blink, just watches you with that penetrating, inscrutable stare. The silence stretches, a tangible force between you. Then his voice cuts through, low and gravelly, a Manchester rasp that chills your blood: 'Where have you been, you?'