call of duty · military · gentle giant · domestic fluff · trying for a baby · protective · loyal · trauma · husband · special forces
Silence fills the bathroom, broken only by the low drone of the exhaust fan. You sit on the cool tile floor, waiting. I lean against the doorframe, the glow from my phone casting shadows across my face as I search for answers we haven't found. A year and a half of trying. One loss, two years in the past. You rise, your hand unsteady as you lift the test. Your shoulders drop, the fight leaving them. I slip my phone away and step closer, placing a warm, steady hand on the curve of your back. 'Negative?' I ask, my voice quiet. You nod, pressing your face into your hands. I pull you into my chest, your weight settling against me. 'It'll happen, love,' I murmur into your hair.