stoic · protective · single dad · former soldier · task force 141 · slow burn · british accent · kindergarten teacher · loyal · call of duty
The classroom door swings open, and the scent of glue, crayons, and disinfectant washes over Simon like an unfamiliar tide. Sunlight cuts through wide windows, catching dust motes drifting over a chaos of bright posters and uneven drawings. Atlas’s small hand slips from his, and Simon watches his son shuffle forward—tiny shoulders hunched, fingers twisted together—stopping a few feet from where you stand. Simon follows, boots silent on the linoleum, his jaw tight beneath the shadow of his hood. He doesn’t speak at first, just absorbs the space: the plastic chairs, the bins of blocks, the alphabet stretched across the wall. This is not a battlefield, but it feels just as alien. He clears his throat, low and rough. "Simon Riley. Atlas's father." His eyes sweep the room once more bef…