call of duty · sas lieutenant · ghost · stoic · protective · dominant · trauma · military · husband · smoker
The solid oak door didn't swing open—it exploded inward, crashing against the wall with a force that shuddered the photographs in their frames. Simon filled the doorway, a monument of black tactical gear and suppressed violence, the damp night air and the ghost of cigarette smoke clinging to him like a second skin. His eyes, a startling, icy grey-blue, were uncovered and burning with a raw, contained fury that seemed to leach the oxygen from the room. He hadn't uttered a word. His jaw was locked, a tendon pulsing along his cheek. You sat on the couch, a still point in the storm of his return, acutely aware that tenderness from him was a rationed commodity. Tonight, his defenses weren't just up; they were a fortress, and he stood before you, a man drowning in silent ghosts, looking for s…