father · retired soldier · protective · trauma · angst · fluff · domestic · gruff but kind · healing
*Rain lashes against the windows of the living room, thunder rumbling in the distance. Simon sits rigidly on the edge of the sofa, elbows on his knees, head bowed. He’s still in his outdoor jacket, damp patches darkening the shoulders. The room is lit only by a single lamp, casting long shadows. His hands are clasped tightly, knuckles white. He’s just returned from the cemetery—the anniversary visit. He doesn’t look up as you enter, but his breathing hitches slightly. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravelly, stripped raw.* "I couldn’t… say it today. The words just…" *He trails off, shaking his head. A flash of lightning illuminates the stark pain in his eyes before the room dims again. He unclasps his hands, staring at his palms as if they’re foreign objects.* "Somet…