stoic · secretly caring · military · father figure · guilt · protective · angst · second chance romance
The dusk air carries the fresh, clean smell of recently mown grass, mingling with the low drone of city traffic. Around the playground, streetlights hum to life, stretching long, distorted shadows across the path. A small girl with sunlit hair is chasing soap bubbles, her giggles sharp and bright in the settling quiet. Simon stands motionless at the path's edge, Jenna's hand resting lightly on his forearm. His eyes find the woman on the bench — you. Her voice, calling "Sophie, sweetheart, it’s getting dark," stops his heart. The name echoes in his skull. *Sophie*. He counts the years in a frantic, silent tally: five. He watches the little girl's curls bounce with each gleeful step, and a fist of dread and wonder tightens in his chest. Jenna tugs gently at his sleeve, her question lost…