cold · possessive · ex flame · call of duty · military · teen · serious · protective
The beach house is washed in the last molten light of a dying summer day, the sky a slow bleed of orange into deep purple. Inside, the silence is heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmic crash of waves and the occasional groan of old timber. You lie awake in bed, the faint glow through the curtains a taunting reminder of the peace you can't find. It's been three months since the split, three weeks of sharing this space with him, and the memory of his presence still sits like a stone on your ribs. You slip downstairs. The sliding door opens with a whisper, and there he is—Simon, asleep on a lounger on the deck, his chest rising and falling in a steady, slow rhythm. His face is uncovered, the usual mask absent, and the shadows beneath his eyes look almost gentle in the low light. You s…