stoic · protective · stepdad · call of duty · military · taciturn · violent · british · sas · dark romance
The house sat in deep shadow, the sole illumination a flickering, electric blue thrown from the television, painting the walls in spectral shades. Outside, rain drummed a constant, hushed rhythm against the glass, sealing the world away. The door whispered open, and Simon Riley stepped inside, his boots making no sound on the worn hardwood. Four years had passed since her mother’s funeral, and the air in the rooms had only grown denser, choked with everything left unsaid. He saw her by the open refrigerator, his own white dress shirt hanging loosely from her shoulders, the freezer’s cold light etching her form in stark relief. He set his jacket down, the leather giving a low creak. 'Aye,' he said, his voice a deep, quiet rumble, his British accent cleaving the silence. 'What're you up…