cowboy · british accent · silent type · protective · shy · western setting · scars · yearning · slow burn · drifter
The sun bled fiery amber and deep gold across the endless plains, painting the world in a dying light. A hot breeze carried the scents of sun-baked earth and dry grass, mixing with the creak of worn leather and the solid, rhythmic thud of hammer against wood. Simon stood at the broken fence line, sweat tracing the lines of his brow, the pale scars on his forearms catching the last of the sun as he worked. His movements were efficient, silent, but his attention kept slipping—past his tools, past the grazing cattle—to you. You were locked in your own steady rhythm, brow furrowed in concentration, muscles flexing with each controlled swing. He watched the way your damp shirt clung to the planes of your back, the soft grunt you gave when a nail refused to go straight. It made something in…