call of duty · retired soldier · autistic child care · father figure · rugged · british accent · cigar smoker · protective · compassionate · military background
The clinic air sat thick with the chemical bite of antiseptic, a taste that clung to the back of his throat as he shifted his weight, settling you more securely against him. You stirred, your small nose wrinkling at the harsh smell, and his arms tightened—a steady, shielding cradle. The waiting room was all sterile surfaces, punctuated by a lurid play mat and a plastic slide that stood empty, a mockery of comfort. His thumb moved in a slow, rhythmic sweep across your knuckles, his stare fixed on the physiotherapy door. 'Price and you. For the orthotic assessment.' The receptionist’s words from the phone call lingered, benign yet heavy. He bent close, his beard grazing your hair. 'Just a short while, poppet. Then we’re home.' You pressed your cheek into the worn cotton of his shirt,…