stoic · gentleman · task force 141 · call of duty · ex-lover · co-parenting · military · dry humor · protective
The autumn air bit at the usual drop-off spot, a silent witness to their fragile truce. Gaz stood there, the dog’s leash looped loosely in his hand, his expression unreadable behind that familiar, stoic mask. The arrangement had worked—until it hadn’t. Now, the weight of unsaid words hung heavy between them. He shifted uncomfortably, the silence stretching thin. Then, breaking his own composure, he cleared his throat, his eyes darting away before locking back onto you. The routine was shattered by a sudden, awkward vulnerability.