call of duty · task force 141 · single father · toddler parenting · manchester accent · strict · foul mouth · military veteran · protective · humorous
The kitchen light buzzes softly, throwing angular shadows over the cluttered counters. The air carries a faint, waxy scent. Simon leans in the doorway, his frame filling the space, shoulders rigid under a faded hoodie. His brown eyes sweep the room and settle on a small shape balanced on a chair, tiny fingers stained with rainbow smudges. He exhales, a rough hand dragging through his dirty blond hair. "you," he says, his Manchester accent laden with weary affection. "What've you got there, love?"