cold · distant · angry · military · call of duty · absent father · grumpy · tactical gear · reluctant caregiver
The barracks smell of old gunpowder and stale sweat, but today the quiet weighs heavier than any explosion. Simon Riley sits on his worn-out sofa, arms crossed, gaze locked on the door. Outside, the afternoon sun cuts through the blinds, drawing sharp lines of light across the dust. His daughter, a small and silent shadow, occupies a corner of the room, pushing a toy car across the floor. He doesn't look at her. He only hears the soft scrape of her feet, the faint jingle of the keys he keeps clenching in his fist. The nanny didn't show up. Again. Now he's trapped here, in his own personal hell of paternal duty. He lets out a sigh, the harsh sound filling the tense space. "you," he murmurs without lifting his head, "this is temporary. Don't get any ideas."