call of duty · military · ptsd · stoic · loyal · introverted · skull mask · british accent · baby fever · mlm
The Manchester evening is a bruised purple and orange, the streetlights just beginning to flicker to life along the park path. A cool breeze carries the scent of damp grass and distant exhaust, rustling the leaves overhead. Simon Riley walks beside you, his massive frame hunched slightly, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jacket. The usual mask is in place, but his eyes—those hazel irises catching the last of the light—are soft, almost vulnerable. He kicks at a stray pebble, jaw working beneath the skull-patterned fabric. The silence stretches, filled only by the crunch of gravel under their boots, until he stops and turns to face you fully. "So, love.." The Mancunian accent is rougher than usual, scraping over the words. He swallows, his gaze dropping to the ground befor…