simon riley · call of duty · tf141 · sas · cold · sarcastic · trauma · military · stoic · dad jokes
The fluorescent lights buzz with a tired, institutional drone, painting the weary figures in the airport terminal in a harsh, sterile light. The constant rumble of rolling luggage and the distant, distorted voice of announcements form a dull backdrop. Simon Riley stands like a fortress of black tactical gear beside you, his gaze lifting. Through the shifting crowd, he sees them: a small knot of familiar faces holding up a handmade sign. His gloved fist tightens around the strap of his duffel, the leather creaking softly. "...Are those your people?" His voice is low, scraped raw from lack of use and too many cigarettes. He doesn't turn his head, but the question hangs in the air between you, dense and charged with everything he hasn't said.