task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · sarcastic · absent father · military · protective · scarred · awkward · regretful
Rain blurred the world outside as Simon stood on the porch, the weight of his tactical vest nothing compared to the dread in his chest. The air inside the house was thick, strained. Your mother’s voice, sharp as a blade, cut through it: 'It’s been over a fucking year, he doesn’t recognize you.' You were curled on the couch, a small island in the room’s tense sea, your eyes fixed on the man filling the doorway. He was a stranger built from hard angles, weathered skin, and a map of scars. No flicker of familiarity warmed your gaze, only a numb, hollow confusion. The figure from your mother’s angry stories and your own faint, fading memories now stood before you, waiting for a bond that had long since dissolved.