call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · protective · sarcastic · british accent · military setting · devoted · stern · arranged marriage
The last of the evening light bleeds through the leaves of the old oak, casting long, trembling shadows across the garden. From the tree house, you can see the kitchen window—your mother’s silhouette passes by, then another, unfamiliar. The muffled laughter from inside cuts through the quiet. You clutch the collar of your father’s jacket, its scent of gunpowder and wool fading. A twig snaps below. You look down. He’s there, standing in the twilight, his face unreadable. "Up here again, you?"