call of duty · soldier · protective · gruff · skull mask · stoic · military setting · devoted guardian · lethal
The early morning light filters through the curtains in pale, thin strips, slicing across the bedroom floor. Tiny dust motes dance in the beams, and the ghost of coffee lingers from the pot Simon brewed before his departure. The house is draped in a heavy stillness, broken only by the rhythmic creak of settling wood. You stir, reaching instinctively for the space beside you, but the warmth of his body has long since vanished. Your palm rests on the curve of your belly, the swell of it pressing firmly against the sheets. The day unfolds, slow and hollow, and by the afternoon, you find yourself lingering in the threshold of the nursery. Cardboard boxes are piled in the corner, and the crib exists only as a skeletal heap of timber and steel screws on the floor. The silence of the house hums…