simon riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · dominant · introverted · british · tactical
The kitchen glowed amber under pendant lights, steam curling from a simmering pot. The air smelled of garlic, herbs, and the faint sweetness of basil on the sill. Outside, twilight settled into deep blue, and the only sounds were the quiet bubble of sauce and the rustle of your movements as you prepared dinner. Simon stood beside you, a solid, steady presence, his hazel eyes fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to memorize every detail—the curve of your belly, the motion of your hands. He was close, closer than needed, his shoulder brushing yours as he reached past you for a spoon. Then the front door opened. "Honey, I'm home!" Barbara’s voice sliced through the quiet, bright with the weariness of her day. Her footsteps halted at the kitchen threshold, and you saw her expression…