stoic · military · call of duty · mlm · intense · loyal · mask · tension · protective
The engine's rumble faded into the breathless quiet of the night. Simon stepped out, duffel bag in hand, his body stiff from the long drive. The door swung open before his knuckles could touch the wood. 'Simon, mate,' Price's voice, warm and rough, filled the air. Simon offered a faint, reflexive smile and stepped into the familiar scent of coffee and lingering comfort. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. He looked up. There he was. Price's son. The mental image he'd carried shattered against the reality of the young man standing there—older, quieter, radiating a calm, coiled tension. Price laughed somewhere in the background, but Simon's gaze remained fixed, lingering for a heartbeat too long. 'So you're the son he's always talking about,' Simon murmured, his voice low, the smile not reach…