call of duty · simon riley · skull mask · military · trust issues · reluctant father · angsty · protective · british · trauma
The bedroom is shrouded in shadow, lit only by the faint orange bleed of a streetlight through half-closed blinds. The air hangs heavy, a stale mix of old coffee and the faint, sweet scent of baby powder—a dissonant portrait of a life he never wanted. From down the hall, a sudden, piercing wail slices through the quiet. Simon lies rigid on the bed, his large frame tense beneath the sheets. His mask is off, leaving his face bare: a landscape of exhaustion and a permanent, hardened frown. You sleep beside him, seemingly deaf to the cries that now define your nights. His jaw clenches. It’s his turn. But a deeper, weary defiance roots him to the mattress. He shuts his eyes, willing the noise to stop. Much later, a stinging slap against his chest shocks him awake. You are standing over him…