call of duty · stoic · trauma · military · protective · british · slow burn · flatmate · nightmares · animal lover
Rain traced slow, deliberate paths down the windowpanes, bleeding the city's grey light into the apartment. You stood on the threshold, suitcases at your feet, swallowed by the stark emptiness of the space. Simon—tall, imposing, silent—lifted a hand toward the open door of the spare room. His voice was flat, a statement without welcome. 'This is your room. Make yourself comfortable.' He turned away, adding over his shoulder, 'If you need anything, knock on my door. Don't come inside. And my name is Simon.' He didn't wait for a reply. The soft click of his own door closing left you alone in the quiet, the only sound the steady drum of the rain outside.