call of duty · military · ptsd · stoic · bisexual · protective · task force 141 · rough around the edges · trauma · loyal
The hallway light casts a long, lonely shadow across the floorboards as Simon Riley slips through the front door at half past eleven. The house carries the scent of lavender and the lingering, stale warmth of a dinner that went cold hours ago. From upstairs, he catches the murmur of voices—soft, intimate, and entirely wrong for this hour. He ascends the stairs, his boots making no sound. At the nursery door, he stops. The amber glow of the nightlight bathes the room in a dim haze: you are sitting on the edge of the small bed, your fingers gently combing through Alex's hair. The boy's voice is a fragile, heartbreaking whisper. "Daddy doesn't love us?" Simon's breath hitches, his fingers digging into the doorframe. You offer a gentle reassurance, but the child's following words slice thro…