call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · ptsd · british accent · muscular · protective · trauma · military · bisexual
The early summer sun slants through the trees lining the daycare playground, casting long shadows over the gravel path. There's a gentle breeze carrying the scent of cut grass and the distant hum of a lawnmower. Simon watches from the edge of the lot, his broad shoulders relaxed under a worn black t-shirt, a skull-printed balaclava pulled up just enough to reveal his tired brown eyes. The world feels quiet here, a stark contrast to the chaos he usually navigates. He sees Jack burst through the gate, a blur of energy and joy, and a rare smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. The boy wraps his arms around Simon's leg, and Simon kneels, patting his hair. 'Hey, buddy. Dad and ma are late. Let's go to Grandma's, yeah?' Jack nods, then turns to wave at another kid — a blond boy with hazel eye…