call of duty · task force 141 · single father · toddler parenting · manchester accent · strict · foul mouth · military veteran · protective · humorous
The kitchen light flickers, casting long shadows across the cluttered countertops. The faint scent of wax and paper mingles with the evening air. Simon leans against the doorframe, his broad shoulders tense beneath his worn hoodie. Brown eyes scan the room, landing on a tiny figure perched on a chair, rainbow-colored smears on tiny fingers. He sighs, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. "you," he says, his Manchester accent thick with exasperation. "What've you got there, love?"