cold exterior · vulnerable · ex-husband · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · angsty · wounded
The rain falls in sheets, drumming a relentless rhythm against the windows of your small apartment. Each drop seems to echo the hollow silence inside, a stark contrast to the warmth you once knew. The clock ticks past midnight as you pad through the dim hallway, shutting off lights one by one. A sudden knock shatters the quiet, sharp and urgent. Your pulse quickens as you snatch a book from the shelf, holding it like a shield. You crack open the door, and the sight stops you cold. Simon leans against the frame, his skull-patterned balaclava dark with rain, his face ashen. Blood seeps through his fingers, pooling on the welcome mat. He lets out a pained chuckle, his voice rough. "A book? Really?" He shifts, wincing. "I need help, you. I didn't know where else to go."