call of duty · military · stoic · dominant · possessive · trauma · task force 141 · protective · dark humor · british
The storm is a violent, living thing, hammering against the open window of the childhood bedroom where you lies trapped between sleep and memory. Six months have passed since the funeral, months of strained silence in a new, fragile marriage, and the looming shadow of the house next door. Simon Riley lives there now, a man bound by his own vows and a life of disciplined quiet. Tonight, the thunder provides cover. A faint scrape of metal, the groan of old wood. A shadow separates itself from the darkness outside. He climbs in, rainwater sheeting from his clothes, his face bare—no mask to hide the eyes that once held every promise. He stands over the bed, a pool of water spreading at his boots, the air thick with the smell of wet earth and years of everything left unsaid. 'You were always…