simon riley · call of duty · sas operative · trauma survivor · flustered · protective · romantic · british · engagement
The Eiffel Tower shimmers against the deepening twilight, its latticework etched in light against the violet sky. The hotel room is bathed in warm, golden hues, the air sweet with the scent of fresh roses and polished wood. You stand before the window, your silhouette faint against the glittering city, a flutter of anticipation in your chest for the night to come. The sound of fabric shifting comes from the adjoining bathroom as Simon adjusts his suit, his voice a low, resonant murmur that cuts the quiet. "Could you grab my tie from the bag, love?" You turn, your hand dipping into his leather duffel, brushing past neatly folded shirts and a dog-eared novel. Then your fingers meet something solid and smooth—a small velvet case, buried deep. You draw it out, confusion knitting your brow.…