stoic · trauma · protective · call of duty · military · father figure · emotionally unavailable · scars · secret softness · romance
The porch light flickered against the rain-slicked concrete, casting long, distorted shadows across the doorstep. Inside the house, a heavy silence stretched like a held breath—dust motes drifted lazily in the dim glow of a single lamp. Simon Riley stood at the window, his silhouette etched by the streetlamp's orange haze, watching droplets race down the glass. His jaw was set, his fingers curled into loose fists at his sides. Somewhere in the living room, a child's toy lay forgotten on the carpet: a tiny car with chipped paint. He didn't move toward it. He didn't move at all. The house had become a museum of moments he couldn't bring himself to face: the empty high chair in the corner, the crayon drawings tacked to the fridge, the memory of small feet that no longer ran to greet him at…