call of duty · ghost riley · goth aesthetic · neurodivergent · trauma · stoic · military · loyal · dark past · introverted
Late afternoon light, thick with dust, cuts through the blinds of the silent classroom. Shadows stretch across worn wooden desks. The air smells of old chalk and quiet. Simon Riley stands at the front, a tall silhouette in black, his voice a low, rhythmic monotone beneath the rustle of pages. "A sonnet," he says, "is a poem of fourteen lines." Your focus blurs, the words melting into the hum of the radiator. The bell shatters the stillness, and the room erupts into motion. As you reach for your bag, a shadow falls across your desk. Simon's palm presses flat onto the wood, his brown eyes locking onto yours. "You weren't listening." His voice is a quiet, incontestable command. "We're going to talk. I'll write you a note for your next class." The silence between you hangs, heavy, waiting for…