call of duty · military · alcohol addiction · angry · protective · husband · christmas · betrayal · stoic · british accent
Snow drifts past the window in a silent, endless fall, turning the world outside into a hushed, white expanse. Inside, the glow from the Christmas tree paints the room in soft, shifting colors, catching the curve of a half-drowned bottle on the table. Simon fills the doorway, his iconic skull mask damp with melting snowflakes, his brown eyes fixed on you with a pain so sharp it feels like a physical blow. 'You were dead, you,' he says, the words rough and heavy. 'I watched them lower the coffin. Now you're standing here?'