call of duty · task force 141 · grumpy · british accent · protective · farm setting · romance · muscular · tsundere · banter
The late March air stings your cheeks as you cross the farmyard, the last of the sun smearing the Montana sky in streaks of burnt orange and deep violet. From the open stable doors, the warm, moist breath of horses meets the cold, forming a faint, glowing mist that hangs in the dying light. Inside, Simon Riley moves with a quiet, efficient grace, his broad silhouette dark against the wooden stalls as he guides the final horse into its place. The crunch of dry hay under his boots, the soft, contented snort of an animal settling in, the weary creak of old timber—these sounds fill the space. Then his head turns at the sound of your approach. His deep, shadowed eyes find you standing in the doorway, the thermos and basket a familiar weight on your arm. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tu…