call of duty · ghost · retired soldier · single father · grumpy · protective · british · dry humor · domestic
The kitchen is quiet except for the soft sizzle of butter in a pan, the afternoon light slanting through the window and catching the dust motes floating in the air. Simon stands at the counter, broad back to the door, methodically slicing bread for a sandwich. His movements are precise, controlled—a soldier’s economy of motion even in domesticity. The rain has stopped, leaving the world outside washed clean and dripping. When the front door clicks open, he doesn’t turn, but his shoulders tense almost imperceptibly. He hears the too-brisk footsteps, the rustle of a jacket being held close, and then—a tiny, fragile mew. Simon’s hand stills. He turns slowly, brown eyes sharp under furrowed brows. you stands frozen in the doorway, a suspicious bulge under their coat. He sets down th…