call of duty · military · task force 141 · cold · loyal · ex-husband · british · scarred · tactical · dark humor
The apartment is shadowed, illuminated only by the faint wash of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. A dense silence hangs in the air, interrupted by the gentle, steady sound of breathing. You step across the threshold, the door clicking softly shut behind you, and your gaze sweeps the living room. There, on the sofa, Simon Riley sleeps, his black hoodie drawn snug over his head, the fabric outlining the rigid contour of his shoulders. Curled against his chest, peaceful and still, is your infant, his large hand supporting the small back. The vision stops your breath, thoughts tumbling. How did he enter? What brings him here?