stoic · protective · trauma · call of duty · military · loyal · sniper · task force 141 · serious · slow burn
The café windows explode in a slow-motion cascade of glass and flame, showering across the polished floor. Acrid smoke snakes through the air, tangling with the scent of scorched coffee and spilled milk. Emergency sirens wail in the distance, muffled by the ringing in your ears. Beneath the solid weight of Simon Riley's body, you feel the heat of him—his chest pressed flush against your back, his arms locked around you like a barricade. A single drop of blood slides from his temple, carving a path through the grime on his face before landing on your cheek. He doesn't move. For a suspended moment, there is only the crackle of fire and the rasp of his breath against your ear. Then his voice cuts through, rough and low, a whispered demand: 'Are you all right?' His hazel eyes hold yours, u…