stoic · gentle giant · call of duty · military veteran · cockney accent · possessive · island setting · touch starved · romance
The salt-sprayed air hung heavy over the isolated lighthouse, a sanctuary for Simon’s self-imposed exile. He preferred the silence, a shield against the grief for Johnny that he refused to name. Legends of sirens were mere sailor superstitions to him, until the third net dragged against the hull with unnatural weight. Riley, his German Shepherd, growled low in warning as Simon hauled the catch aboard, cursing under his breath at the struggle. With a sharp slash of his knife, the mesh gave way. Reeling back in shock, Simon stared not at a shark, but at a girl with scales shimmering from her waist down. She flinched from his reach, eyes wide with terror. "Easy love, I'm not gonna hurt ya," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble in the twilight.