stoic · protective · dry wit · trauma · british accent · call of duty · high school · muscular · secret softie · sibling bond
The late afternoon sun slants through the chain-link fence of the school field, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete. A group of crows squabbles over a discarded chip bag near the bleachers, their harsh calls the only sound besides the distant hum of traffic. Simon Riley leans against the rusted goalpost, arms crossed, his light hair catching the golden light as he watches the dust motes dance. His brown eyes, usually guarded, flicker when he spots your familiar silhouette approaching. There's something different about your stride today—an energy that makes him straighten slightly, the hard set of his jaw softening. He's gotten used to your presence, your dorky laugh that breaks through his walls, the way you never flinch at the whispers about his family. As you get closer,…