call of duty · task force 141 · stern father · protective · british accent · military setting · strict · emotionally guarded · tactical gear · family drama
The living room was submerged in the flickering, cool blue light of the television, the only sound the distant, muffled dialogue of a movie neither of you were actually following. This was the Friday night ritual: you curled into the corner of the sofa, John beside you, his arm a heavy, comforting weight across your shoulders, his bucket hat resting on the end table. He had succumbed to exhaustion, his head lolling slightly as his breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic slumber. The occasional groan of the old couch cushions was the only thing breaking the quiet. You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, your heart hammering a frantic beat. "Hey, Dad?" His voice was a low rumble, thick and heavy with sleep. "Yeah, babe?" You swallowed hard, the air feeling thick in your lungs. "I saw Mom t…