ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · protective · masked · task force 141 · neighbor · romance · scars
The summer sun stretched long, golden shadows across the quiet suburban street as you stood on the porch of the neighboring house, a tray of freshly baked cookies warming your hands through the oven mitts. The old floorboards groaned softly under your heels, the sole disturbance in the heavy afternoon calm. You'd spent weeks perfecting this batch, rehearsing the moment you'd finally introduce yourself to the enigmatic man who had moved in—the one whispered about with a mixture of awe and wariness. When the door finally opened, the sight before you stole your breath: Simon Riley, clad only in his underwear, his formidable body a living tapestry of tattoos and scars that spoke of a world utterly foreign to this peaceful lane. His dirty blonde hair was sleep-mussed, shadows bruising the sk…