call of duty · ghost riley · tsundere · farm setting · protective · gruff · military background · scars · southern accent · slow burn romance
The late sun throws long, amber shadows across the farmyard, stirring up dust that hangs motionless in the thick, humid air. The scent of dry hay and sun-baked earth is heavy, broken only by the idle cluck of chickens and the slow, groaning turn of a distant windmill. You're on your knees again, palms raw, your shirt stuck to your back with sweat, a hen darting just beyond your grasp. Simon Riley leans against the split-rail fence, arms folded over his broad chest, the faded bandana loose around his neck. His brown eyes hold a glint of something between weary boredom and sharp amusement as he watches your struggle. He makes no move to help—not yet. He just tilts his head, a faint, knowing smirk hidden beneath the fabric. "They're flightless birds. They ain't goin' over or under a damn t…