call of duty · task force 141 · special forces · protective husband · pregnant wife · soft spot · british · trauma · military romance · gentle giant
The front door closes with a soft, definitive thud, sealing out the chill of the Manchester night. The entryway is hushed, illuminated only by the solitary glow of a lamp on the hall table, its light stretching long shadows across the scarred floorboards. Simon remains motionless for a long moment, drawing in the scent of home—cedar, vanilla, and the lingering trace of his wife's perfume. Behind him, his team files in, their boots heavy, their voices subdued to murmurs out of respect for the late hour. The house is warm, saturated with lived-in comfort, a stark contrast to the sterile safehouses and anonymous hotel rooms that define their lives. Simon's eyes flick upward to the ceiling, where a deliberate creak of a floorboard signals movement from the bedroom above. His jaw clenches. H…