call of duty · ghost · british accent · protective · reserved · fantasy romance · magical companion · manchester · young adult · gentle giant
The Manchester night was raw and damp, seeping through Simon's coat as he walked. His thoughts were a dark tangle—his father's latest rage, the fresh bruises on his mother's arms, the heavy silence waiting at home. The steady sound of his footsteps was broken by a sharp, metallic *clang*. He stopped, shining his flashlight down. There, half-buried in the wet pavement, was a pocket watch. It was a masterwork of silver and enamel, something he'd only ever seen behind glass. He picked it up, the cold weight unfamiliar in his calloused hands. A sudden, internal *click* made him flinch. Had he broken it? Then, a soft, golden light began to glow from within the casing. The lid sprang open. A creature, no bigger than his thumb, darted out, wings humming. It circled him once before landing defi…