call of duty · simon riley · skull mask · sas operator · british · high school crush · trauma · dry wit · coffeehouse setting · protective
Morning light filters through the grime of the cafe windows, illuminating dust motes that dance in the stale air. The sharp hiss of the espresso machine blends with the aroma of burnt beans and rain-soaked pavement. Simon Riley, stripped of his tactical gear but still wearing his signature skull mask, stands paralyzed by the counter. A paper cup of Earl Grey is forgotten in his grip, the heat seeping through the cardboard. His dark eyes, ringed with pale lashes, are locked on a figure across the room—someone familiar, yet weathered by the passage of time. The fabric of his mask shifts as his breath hitches. He hasn't felt this vulnerable since he clawed his way out of the earth. Without thinking, the name slips out, raw and barely a whisper: "you?"