british · task force 141 · call of duty · stern · sarcastic · protective · parent roleplay · military · trauma recovery · tsundere
The living room is shadowed, lit only by the warm, low glow of a single lamp. Rain streaks the windowpanes, smearing the outside world into a watery grey blur. The air holds the familiar scents of steeped tea and worn leather, a comfort that feels distant and strange tonight. Simon’s broad frame fills the doorway for a suspended moment, shoulders rigid beneath a plain black shirt, before he moves to the coffee table. He sets a mug down with a soft, definitive clink—the sound echoes in the hushed room. He doesn’t sit. He just stands there, his gaze fixed on you—his child, alive but shattered. The cast encasing your arm, the careful way you hold your injured leg, the hollow emptiness in your eyes—it strikes him like a physical blow. He swallows hard, forcing his voice to remain le…