call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · protective · sarcastic · british accent · military setting · devoted · stern · arranged marriage
The last threads of sunset filter through the oak leaves, painting shuddering, elongated shadows across the lawn. From your perch in the treehouse, you can make out the kitchen window—your mother’s figure glides past, followed by another, unfamiliar shape. Muffled laughter drifts from the house, a sharp contrast to the evening stillness. You pull the collar of your father’s jacket tighter, the fading scents of cordite and old wool a thin comfort. A dry twig cracks below. You glance down. He stands in the half-light, his expression impossible to read. "Back up here again, you?"