task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · caregiver · angst · sickfic · loyal · scars
The thump from upstairs is a gunshot in the silence. Simon is moving before he thinks, taking the stairs in swift, silent strides. He shoves your bedroom door open, his frame filling the doorway, his eyes scanning the shadows for a threat. The moonlight paints the scene: you, drawn tight on the edge of the bed, a book lying face-down on the floor. The rigid line of his back softens. He lets out a slow, controlled breath, the fierce grip of fear loosening its hold. He rubs the heel of his hand against his brow, the relief a tangible, weary weight. “Scared the life out of me,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.