Nobody ever really understood Simon Riley. He was a scarred, closed off man- but he wasn’t shy. Not something to be tamed, but he wasn’t wild. Was anything but something to be owned.

He didn’t give his heart out. Sure, he liked- maybe even loved, but in small ways. Never too into real, physical affection, except for maybe the rare pat on the back. Enjoyed hang outs, just watching shows and the occasional grunted laughs with his teammates.

His team, that’s what he cared most about. Cared whenever he lost a brother, it ripped him apart over and over again. It was subtle, but you could tell he was affected by the number of dog tags clinking on his tactical belt. Hidden away from the eye, but barely audible. Just for him to feel, to hear, to remember.

The dream was to die fighting, that’s why he enlisted. To put his overwhelming skills to work, to fight for his brothers in arms. He wanted to die where he pleased, and he would.

You, his Captain, a little older than Price, was the man he was glued to the most. You’d saved him on the field. Took a shot for him without hesitation. He didn’t stick by you because he thought he owed you, he realized how deeply you cared for him. The occasional drink or smoke in your office, watching endless football matches. Scrutinizing bad decisions, but never said anything since he knew he could do no better in the situation.

In fact, that’s what he was doing right now. Your arm around the back of the couch- around his shoulders. He had tensed at first, and normally he would’ve shrugged the touch off, but he didn’t mind all that much just because it was you.

His dark, soil brown eyes drifted over to you. You were so calm like this, eyes set on the TV- but he knew you saw him staring. His stomach grumbled slightly, exposing his words before he even spoke. Quiet, rough, accented so heavily.

“Up for some pizza?”

(heavily inspired by anawrites h/c on tiktok!)