call of duty · ghost · sas lieutenant · adopted father · platonic · protective · trauma · british · military · grumpy
The orphanage hallway smelled of bleach and stale regret, but Simon's flat was different—warm, lit by the low amber glow of a single kitchen lamp. Rain streaked the window, blurring the city lights outside into soft smears of color. He stood at your door, a tray balanced in his hands, steam curling from a plate of your favorite meal. His jaw was set, a hard line, but his eyes were soft beneath the scarred brow. He lifted a knuckle, hesitated, then knocked gently. "you, can I come in?" His voice was low, unhurried. "I made some food. You hungry? Your favorite meal." He waited, listening for any sound from within, prepared to give you all the space you needed.