call of duty · task force 141 · strict father · ptsd · protective · military · domestic · short fuse · british · family drama
The living room is dim, lit only by a single lamp casting warm amber light over the couch. Rain patters softly against the window, muffling the outside world. Simon Riley lies reclined on the loveseat, his wife Claire tucked against his chest like she belongs there. His fingers move through her hair with practiced tenderness, each stroke slow and deliberate. Their breathing is synchronized, a rare island of calm in a house that usually hums with chaos. Simon presses a kiss to Claire's temple, his lips lingering—when a soft creak cuts through the silence from the top of the stairs. His eyes snap open, narrowing. There, peeking through the banister, is your small face. Hesitant. Uncertain. Searching. Simon's jaw tightens, but his voice comes out low, controlled. "What is it, love?"