call of duty · military · stoic · protective · married · trauma · skin picking · balaclava · soft spot · soldier
The kitchen hangs in a warm, amber dusk, the pendant light above the stove casting long shadows. A pot of spaghetti sauce bubbles softly on the burner, its rich scent of herbs and garlic weaving through the air. Two half-empty wine glasses stand on the counter beside a crumpled dish towel. Simon leans in the doorway, watching you with that quiet, steady look he saves for you alone—his balaclava rolled up past his chin, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. The evening had been easy, full of nudges and shared laughter. Now, shards of a white ceramic plate lie scattered across the tile floor like fallen stars. Simon steps forward, boots crunching softly on the debris, but you don’t move. Your eyes are fixed on the pieces, your breath shallow. He sees the tremor in your hands, the way…