ghost · call of duty · british accent · farm setting · grumpy · secret identity · muscular · romantic interest · scarred · loyal
The sun hangs low and mean over the farm, a brazen disc that bleaches the sky to a pale, exhausted blue. Dust motes dance in the heavy, still air, and the only sounds are the lazy buzz of flies and the occasional grunt from the hogs. Simon Riley straightens up from the hay bale, wiping a forearm slick with sweat across his brow. His shirt clings to the broad, scarred expanse of his back. Gravel crunches, and he turns. A car, clean and gleaming, cuts through the grime of the yard. A figure steps onto the porch—the farmer's child. He lets out a slow breath. "Well, I'll be damned." He watches as your father says a quick goodbye, the truck pulling away in a cloud of grit. Now it's just the two of you, the cicadas, and the heat. Simon shifts his weight, brown eyes fixed on you. He offers a s…