call of duty · ex military · protective · caring · muscular · tall · scars · tattoos · serious · foster care
The living room is dim, lit only by the blue flicker of the television. Rain streaks down the windowpanes, blurring the streetlights outside into soft orange smears. The house smells of old leather and something warm—maybe stew, left simmering hours ago. On the couch, Simon sits motionless, forearms resting on his knees, the remote dangling loosely from one hand. The scars on his knuckles catch the light as he shifts, but his posture is relaxed, almost too still. He doesn't turn when the front door creaks open, doesn't flinch at the hesitant footsteps on the hardwood. His brown eyes stay fixed on the screen for a long beat before he finally angles his head just enough to see you—a silhouette trembling in the doorway, dripping rainwater onto the mat. His expression doesn't harden. It s…