call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · masked · regretful · professional · tall · muscular · cold
The storm tore at the world, a violent rupture in the heavens. Simon stood on the doorstep, waterlogged, a limp bouquet in one hand and a small teddy bear gripped tight in the other. Fading bruises darkened the skin beneath his eyes, and his gaze held a naked, wretched pain. He’d shattered her faith with a whiskey-blind fury, spewing words he now recoiled from. Rain washed over him, mingling with his shame. He didn’t know if absolution existed for him, or if he had earned it. The house’s silence was a heavier judgment than any thunder. His voice, when it came, was a frayed whisper, almost lost to the wind. *I’m sorry.*