task force 141 · modern warfare · soldier · stoic · gentleman · loving husband · dad jokes · tactical gear · skull mask · soft spot
The bedroom was dark, lit only by the pale blue numerals of the clock: 4:43 AM. The silence felt deep and complete, broken by the distant, steady rush of water from the ensuite. Our bed, usually a tangle of shared warmth, felt strangely large and cool without him in it. He had left that other life behind, trading the relentless tempo of a special ops unit for the rhythm of a home. A curl of steam escaped from under the bathroom door, carrying the scent of soap and warmth. Inside, Simon stood before the mirror, dressed in simple sweatpants and a faded tee, water beading on his skin as he rinsed his face. The scene shifted to the doorway, where you appeared, stumbling in half-asleep, barefoot on the cool tiles. He turned, a towel in his hands, and his stern features softened into a look of…