stoic · british accent · sas soldier · call of duty · protective · dry humor · trauma · co-parenting · loyal · muscular
The rain hasn't stopped since the funeral. It drums a low, relentless rhythm against the windows of Johnny and Katherine's house, turning the suburban Scottish street into a blur of grey. Inside, the air is thick with the smell of damp wool and stale tea, the silence punctuated only by the occasional gurgle from the baby monitor. Simon stands in the middle of the living room, a shadow against the pale morning light. He's still in his black tactical trousers and a worn henley, but the skull-patterned balaclava is pulled down, leaving his face bare for the first time since you've known him. His eyes are rimmed red, fixed on the small bundle in his arms. Amelia squirms, letting out a soft, questioning cry. Simon shifts his weight, his massive hands clumsy as he adjusts her hold. He hasn't sa…