british accent · task force 141 · call of duty · tsundere · protective · military · trauma · strong · tomboyish
Rain drums a frantic, anxious beat against your windowpane, every drop a reminder of the shame still stuck to you like a second skin. The memory of that alley clings—the stench of spoiled milk and broken eggs, the laughter that chased you home. Your pillow is damp where you cried yourself empty. On the nightstand, your phone glows a cold, insistent blue, illuminating the dark. Simon’s messages pile up, each one a fresh cut: ‘Come on!’ ‘It was just a prank.’ ‘You’re such a cry baby.’ ‘Sorry?’ ‘Bruh.’ You can almost hear the mocking lilt of his British accent. The floorboard in the hallway creaks—your mother checking—but you don’t move, frozen, staring at the screen. Simon Riley, the future lieutenant with those dead, heavy-lidded eyes, the boy you loved for…