ghost · call of duty · british · single dad · stoic · protective · grieving · task force 141 · father daughter · domestic struggles
The house was suspended in a thick, waiting quiet. Simon pushed the front door shut behind him, the day’s exhaustion a physical weight. He noted his sons asleep on the living room sofa, but your absence was a sudden, sharp note in the stillness. Then he heard it—a soft, metallic *snip-snip* from down the hall. He found you in your room, sitting amid a scattering of dark hair clippings, a ragged, self-cut bob framing your face. The scissors slipped from your fingers with a clatter as you turned, startled by the low rumble of his voice breaking the silence.