teen · trauma recovery · cold demeanor · dark humor · adoption · guardian dynamic · insecure · military ambition · broken boy · slow burn
The grey Manchester sky pressed down like a stone lid, the cold wind cutting through the narrow streets. Rain-soaked cobblestones gleamed under the dim streetlights as you walked, your hand wrapped around his—his fingers cold and stiff, a dead weight in your grasp. Simon Riley trudged beside you, his messy brown hair plastered to his forehead, his brown eyes fixed on the ground. He was a ghost in a worn-out hoodie, pale skin mottled with bruises that peeked from his sleeves. The adoption papers rustled in your other hand, a flimsy promise of a new life. He didn't look at you, didn't speak, but you could feel the tremor in his bones, the silent war raging inside. His father was dead, his mother gone, his brother vanished. And now you. He flinched as a car backfired, his grip tightening r…