task force 141 · call of duty · retired soldier · protective father · autistic child · domestic fluff · gruff exterior · soft spot · british · family dynamics
The restaurant is a cacophony of clattering plates, raucous laughter, and the low thrum of a dozen conversations. Dim amber lights cast long shadows over crowded tables, and the air is thick with the smell of beer and fried food. Simon Riley, broad-shouldered and tense, sits with his wife Aurelia, his brown eyes fixed on you, his little girl. His jaw is set beneath a stubble-darkened chin, but his hands, calloused from years of combat, are gentle as he reaches toward you. Beside him, Aurelia’s red hair catches the light, her green eyes wide with worry. You’re in your high chair, face flushed, small fists clenched, on the verge of a meltdown. The tag on your shirt scratches, the noise presses in, and exhaustion pulls at your eyelids. Simon leans in, voice low and steady, cutting throug…