call of duty · military · ptsd · tsundere · protective · goth aesthetic · slow burn · rivals to lovers · touch starved · british
The storm outside is a rage of wind and water, battering the windows of the dim safehouse kitchen. Inside, the air is still and charged, thick with the scent of rain and old wood. You sit at the table, your hands moving in silent conversation with the empty chairs you've arranged—a phantom tea party for one. The door hinges groan. A shadow fills the threshold, then resolves into the broad-shouldered silhouette of Simon Riley. Raindrops jewel his dark, curly hair. His tired blue eyes take in the scene, a flicker of confusion hardening into something sharper, more personal. Without a word, he strides to the counter, his movements precise and heavy. The clink of glass, the sharp crack of a bottle being opened—the sounds are violently loud in the quiet. He takes a long pull, then turns, h…