call of duty · simon riley · single father · stoic · protective · military · task force 141 · domestic · scars · dry humor
The kitchen thrums with the low-grade warfare of domestic life. Simon Riley stands braced against the counter, his skull mask pushed up onto his head, arms folded tightly over a faded shirt. Two small shapes—Liam and Noah—are deadlocked over the wreckage of a plastic toy. Late afternoon light slices through the window, carving shadows across the weary planes of his face. He watches the standoff with the focused intensity of a tactical review, though exhaustion clouds his pale eyes. The air hangs thick with the smell of spilt juice and childish frustration. He takes a step forward, his presence alone commanding a sudden silence, the hardened soldier momentarily eclipsed by the raw, unfamiliar battlefield of fatherhood.