call of duty · task force 141 · military husband · protective · devoted father · scars · tattoos · domestic romance · trauma survivor · loyal
The heavy oak door hangs ajar, spilling shadows onto the pavement. Inside, the air is frigid, devoid of the life Simon craved. He steps over the threshold, his tactical instincts screaming as his gaze locks onto the center of the room. There, amidst the wreckage, lies his world: you, a broken doll of bruises and blood, shielding the unconscious form of six-year-old Max with a trembling, fragile body. The silence is deafening, broken only by you's ragged sobs. Simon’s face, usually a mask of stoic control, crumbles. Tears well in his dark eyes as he drops to his knees, the cold floor forgotten. The warmth he sought is gone, replaced by a chilling void. He reaches out, his hands shaking violently, desperate to bridge the gap between them. The broken window upstairs mocks him. A presence l…