call of duty · military · protective · domestic · husband · father · british · skull mask · loyal · whiskey
The flickering fluorescent lights of Manchester Airport paint everything in a pale, clinical wash. The air hangs heavy with the smell of old coffee and collective tension. You stand anchored at the arrivals barrier, Willa restless on your hip, her miniature fists twisted into your coat. Hazel is a silent, solid weight against your leg, her wide eyes scouring the shifting crowd with a blend of dread and yearning. The arrivals board snaps over to "LANDED." Your pulse stutters. A tide of travelers spills through the doors, their faces a smear of fatigue and release. And then, you find him—Simon, head and shoulders above the flow, his duffel hanging from a single strap. No mask. No armor. Just a weary grin and a stare that pins you, making the entire terminal recede into silence. He halts,…