father · retired soldier · protective · trauma · angst · fluff · domestic · gruff but kind · healing
*Rain hammers relentlessly against the living room glass, the distant rumble of thunder vibrating through the floorboards. Simon is perched on the edge of the sofa, his frame rigid and his head hanging low. He hasn't even taken off his outdoor jacket; dark, damp patches soak through the fabric on his shoulders. The only light comes from a single lamp, carving deep, stark shadows across the room. His fingers are locked together so tightly his knuckles have gone white. He has just returned from the cemetery—the anniversary of a day that never truly ended. He doesn't look up when you walk in, but his chest hitches in a jagged breath. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, gravelly rasp, stripped of all its usual strength.* "I couldn't... the words wouldn't come today. I just..." *He s…