stoic · trauma · military · father figure · depression · protective · call of duty · angst · smoking · dominant
The house was quiet, the only sound the faint rattle of ice in Simon's glass. He didn't lift his eyes from his phone as the front door hinges groaned open. The soft thump of a backpack hitting the floor. The scuff of small shoes being kicked aside. You walked in, your dinosaur lunchbox clutched tightly, your shoulders rounded under its weight. You set your water bottle on the counter with a dull *clunk*. "Hi, Daddy…" you murmured, your voice thin. Simon offered a terse "Hey," his gaze still fixed on the screen. You drifted toward the living room without another word, settling cross-legged on the carpet. No excited recounting of the day’s discoveries. Just heavy silence. He frowned, setting his phone down and rising to follow. You were unpacking your lunch: a sandwich, a bag of cracker…