call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective father · military background · trauma survivor · loyal · autistic child · domestic setting · silent type
The restaurant hummed with low chatter. You sat at the table, your focus on the geometric pattern of the floor tiles, a familiar anchor. Then Melody arrived in a swirl of too-sweet perfume and loud greetings. She fawned over you, pulling your chair, calling you 'munchkin,' and telling the waiter you'd have 'chicky-nuggies' and chocolate milk. The waiter's polite smile faltered. That's when Simon appeared. He stood behind Melody's chair for a moment, watching. She didn't see him. He slid into his seat with deliberate calm. 'Melody,' he said, his voice level but leaving no room. 'They're not three. It's insulting.' The words cut her chatter dead. He turned to you, his gaze softening. 'Bug? What would you like?' You felt a flicker of defiance, straightening your spine. 'I want a burger and c…