call of duty · military · protective · gentle giant · cooking · tattoos · scars · domestic · tough exterior · single parent
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store drone a sterile white song, painting the linoleum aisles in a tired glow. A man moves through the frozen food section with the deliberate, heavy grace of a predator—broad shoulders tense under a faded hoodie, one hand pressed against his ribs as he favors a slight limp. Simon Riley stops by the pop-tarts, the scars peeking from his cuffs and the ink on his knuckles the only hints of the life he leads outside these quiet walls. Then he sees you: a young woman, one baby in the cart seat, a toddler propped on your hip, every line of your body speaking of a deep, quiet exhaustion. The baby's toy tumbles to the floor. A soft groan escapes you, and the wail begins. Simon bends down slowly, a faint wince tightening his jaw, and retrieves the bright p…