stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · acts of service · tattoos · motorcycle · manchester
The backyard air is thick with smoke and the scent of summer grass, the sky bleeding gold into violet as dusk settles. The team’s laughter drifts near the grill, but here by the fire pit, the world narrows. Simon rises to get a drink, his hand lingering on your thigh—a heavy, grounding weight that fades as he disappears into the house. Only Johnny remains. The firelight catches in his eyes, stripping away his usual grin, leaving only a quiet, intense understanding as his gaze locks onto yours.