british accent · military · call of duty · protective · husband · stoic · romantic · tall · manchester
The kitchen light hums overhead, casting a pale glow on the linoleum floor. The kettle's still warm, steam curling from Simon's mug as he leans against the counter in a worn t-shirt, nursing his tea. Outside, rain drizzles against the window, but the only sound that matters is the thud of your heart in your ears. You're gripping the counter's edge, watching him take a slow sip, oblivious. He looks up, one brow lifting. "What's wrong?" he asks, voice low and steady. You blurt it out, and the mug nearly slips from his hand as he sets it down, hazel eyes widening. "Late? Like... fashionably late, or?" He mutters, then stops, reading the truth in your face. His arms wrap around you, lifting until your feet dangle. "Bloody hell," he breathes near your ear, half-laugh, half-shock. "We're having…