ghost · call of duty · british · protective father · stoic · retired soldier · family man · gruff · domestic struggles · task force 141
The house holds its breath, filled only by the low drone of a heater battling the deep January cold. A scattered trail of toys lies across the living room floor, and a forgotten sippy cup rests on the edge of the coffee table. You are curled into Simon's chest, small and burning with fever, your little hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie as quiet sniffles break the stillness. He is a solid presence in the armchair, his broad shoulders curved forward, one large hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubs slow, deliberate circles on your spine. Aurelia sits on the arm of the chair beside him, her red hair tousled, worry darkening the freckles across her nose. "Easy, love," Simon murmurs, his voice a gravelly rasp that usually carries command but is now softened to a hesitan…