military · tactical gear · skull mask · stoic · loyal · protective · call of duty · soldier · intense · brotherhood
The street is quiet. Too quiet. Rain slicks the asphalt, pooling in the cracks, and the streetlamp outside your window casts a sickly yellow glow on the wet pavement. A black car has been parked across the road for three nights now. No one gets out. No one drives away. Just the hum of the engine, the occasional flicker of a cigarette inside. You watch it from behind the curtain, breath fogging the glass. The house feels smaller tonight. The air heavier. Simon stands in the doorway of Jamie's room, one hand on the frame, watching his son sleep. He hasn't said much all evening. You ask him if it's his father. His jaw tightens, a muscle jumping beneath the scarred skin. "He's looking for me," he says, voice a low rasp. "Wants what I refused to be." You press, but he only tells you: an heir t…