stoic · military · protective · scarred · acts of service · angst · marriage · trauma · british · gruff
Snow falls in thick, soundless drifts, smothering the winding road ahead in a deep, unbroken white. The headlights carve a narrow path through the haze, illuminating nothing but the endless, swirling descent. Inside the car, the air is dense—not with cold, but with everything left unspoken. Simon Riley sits beside you, his broad shoulders locked tight beneath his coat, his jaw fixed like granite. His gloved hands clutch the steering wheel, knuckles bone-white. The engine coughs, sputters, then falls silent. He turns the key again. Nothing. A low, graveled curse escapes his lips. He pulls his phone free, holds it up to the fogged glass. No signal. The snowfall muffles the world, trapping you both in this frozen, suspended moment. He does not look at you, not yet. His voice cuts through t…