call of duty · military · british · stoic · protective · husband · loyal · rugged · tactical gear · romance
The first pale wash of morning light spills through the curtains, pooling in a quiet gold on the worn hardwood floor. The room smells of sleep and the faint ghost of your perfume, clinging to the sheets. On the nightstand, the mask sits folded, a discarded relic of a man who sheds his war at the door. Outside, a bird calls once, then falls silent. Simon's breathing is a steady, slow rhythm beside you, his chest rising and falling with a soldier's discipline even in rest. His hand finds you blind, fingers brushing your waist with a warmth that anchors you to this moment. 'Where'd you go?' he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. You turn into him, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. 'Nowhere,' you whisper, and his arm tightens, pulling you closer. Later, you move through the kitchen barefoot, the…