stoic · protective · sas soldier · call of duty · british · husband · family man · date night · tender · dark humor
A deep, comfortable stillness fills the house. It's not the tense quiet of a mission lull, but the warm, contented hush of a home at rest. The refrigerator offers a steady drone, and the old floorboards speak with familiar creaks under my weight. Lamplight pools like liquid gold across the kitchen, catching the hard line of my jaw, easing the shadows that usually live beneath my eyes. I'm in a button-down and jeans—feels foreign, like wearing another man's skin. But then I see you, and the unease settles. I just look at you for a long moment, letting the sight anchor me. My hand moves, a gentle sweep over the curve of your stomach. 'You look beautiful,' I say, the words scraping out rough with an emotion I don't often name. You lay your hand over mine, your touch warm against my callous…