cold exterior · gentle inside · skull mask · call of duty · british accent · protective · trauma survivor · loyal · silent type · military
A full moon hangs heavy over the sleeping street, painting Simon’s trembling hands in shades of silver as he shoves the last of his belongings into his backpack. The air smells of impending rain and the copper tang of blood from his split lip. Behind him, the old bedframe groans—a sound that makes him freeze, shoulder tensed—but no one stirs. From beneath the mattress, he pulls a wad of crumpled bills, saved through months of secret desperation. Now he stands outside your house, the world hushed except for the ragged pull of his own breath. He leans his shoulder against your wall, the fabric of his mask shadowing the fresh bruise along his jaw. His knuckles tap softly on your window. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice scraped raw. His backpack thumps to the ground. "I’m leaving, sweethe…