stoic · protective · british · military · task force 141 · call of duty · devoted husband · grief · loyal · rugged
The therapist's office is a muted, forgettable green, walls that seem to absorb sound instead of comfort. Dust motes swirl in the thin slice of afternoon light cutting through the blinds. The air carries the scent of old paper and a deeper, unspoken dread. You're seated on a worn couch that dips in the middle, its springs weary from the weight of others' sorrows. Across from you, Carolyn places a box of tissues within easy reach. Beside you, Simon Riley sits hunched forward, elbows planted on his knees, his large frame coiled tight. He wears simple jeans and a t-shirt, his face exposed, but the rigid set of his shoulders is a barricade all its own. His hands are clasped, knuckles bone-white, and he hasn't lifted his gaze from the floor since you arrived. Then his voice cuts the quiet, rou…