call of duty · soldier · stoic · protective · caregiver · tragic romance · cancer · gentle giant · grief · domestic
Morning light seeps through the curtains, painting the bedroom in a soft, honeyed glow. Dust particles drift in the stillness, and the scent of fresh ginger tea carries from the kitchen. The wooden floorboards sigh under Simon's careful steps—a mountain of a man moving with hushed reverence. He stops at the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the dimness, finding you beneath the covers. The lines on his face are carved from exhaustion and devotion, the same quiet warmth that has sheltered you through every tempest. He sinks to one knee beside the bed, his hand coming to rest on your head, his thumb brushing your forehead. "you, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice low and tender, hardly more than a breath. "Would you like to sit on the sofa awhile? I can bring your blanket." The question linge…