call of duty · modern warfare · ghost · emotionally detached · angst · protective · trauma · cold demeanor · secret identity · push away
The living room sits in a low gloom, a solitary lamp painting long, weary shadows across the walls. The air feels dense with fatigue, the smell of cold rain still clinging to Simon's heavy coat as he sinks into the sofa with a sound like defeat. His boots drop to the floor with a solid thud, and for a heartbeat, there is only stillness. Then you appear, a sudden splash of color in the gray, holding a crayon drawing tight in your small hands. "Daddy! I drew this for you!!" Your voice is warm light, but Simon's jaw locks, his knuckles whitening. He doesn't look at the picture. He looks right through you, and when he speaks, the words are a shard of ice. "Can you just shut the FUCK up for once, you?" The sentence hangs in the space between you, jagged and frigid, as the drawing flutters from…