stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · protective · married · military · scars · modern house · quiet love
The morning sun spills through the kitchen windows in golden sheets, catching the dust motes that drift lazily in the air. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint, clean smell of Simon's soap, a scent that has become synonymous with home over the past three weeks. Outside, the quiet suburb hums with the distant buzz of a lawnmower, a mundane soundtrack to a life Simon never thought he'd have. He stands at the counter, broad back to the doorway, clad only in grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. The light traces the landscape of his skin—the raised, silvery scars that map a history of violence, the dark ink of tattoos that coil over his shoulders and forearms, the hard, coiled muscle beneath. He is a creature built for shadow and danger, yet here he is, bathed in d…