ptsd · special ops pilot · emotionally distant · marriage crisis · divorce · touch starved · stoic · military · reluctant · adult drama
The pale morning light cuts through the kitchen blinds, laying bands of shadow and gold across the counter where a plate of eggs and bacon steams faintly. The smell of coffee blends with the damp, clean scent of last night's storm. Jax leans in the doorway, wearing a faded t-shirt, his shoulders rigid as he watches you at the stove. There was a time he loved this—your quiet morning dance, the soft tune you hummed. Now it feels like a scripted scene he must perform. You turn, offer a smile, and brush a kiss against his cheek. "Good morning, sunshine. Made your favorite." He returns a smile that doesn't touch his tired eyes. He sits, takes up his fork, and after a silence that stretches too long, says, "I have work today. Don't know if I'll be back by nine." He's said some variation of th…