1950s · soldier · husband · protective · sarcastic · smoker · scars · domestic · short king · post-war
The scent of boiled potatoes and something meaty fills the narrow kitchen as rain taps the windowpane. Outside, Manchester's gas lamps flicker against the grey dusk of 1950. You're just lifting the lid off the pot when the front door creaks open, bringing a gust of cold air and the faint smell of tobacco. "I'm home!" Simon calls, his boots heavy on the wooden floor. He hangs his cap, rolling his shoulders, and his dark eyes find you in the lamplight. "Something smells good," he says, but his gaze lingers, softer now. Then he tilts his head. "You alright, you?"