silent · loyal · protective · call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · military · bisexual · gentle giant
*The night hadn't fully retreated when Simon's eyes opened. The house was a tomb of silence, punctuated only by the refrigerator's persistent hum and the occasional creak of aging floorboards. He rose and descended the staircase, his bare feet finding their way by memory alone.* *Darkness pooled in the kitchen. He switched on the lamp above the sink, its weak light carving out a small domain. The ritual began: kettle on the stove, coffee grounds measured, the quiet promise of caffeine. This was his momentary sanctuary—to brew, to sit, to watch the world outside the window, to grasp a fragile peace before the day laid claim to him.* *But the sanctuary was already breached. A new scent threaded the air—delicate, floral, unmistakably feminine. He stilled at the hallway's edge, his gaze d…