call of duty · mlm · ftm · military · serious · protective · baby fever · stoic · muscular · manchester
The bedroom is hushed, bathed in the fading gold of a late afternoon. Slivers of light cut between the curtains, laying stripes across the rumpled sheets where you both lie. The air is motionless, thick with unspoken words. Simon, your husband, rests his head heavily against your abdomen, his arms a secure loop around your waist. His eyes are open but distant, fixed on some inner horizon. He shifts, pressing his cheek closer, the stubble a faint scratch against your skin. His voice, when it comes, is a murmur barely louder than the silence. "you... there's somethin' I can't shake. Been carryin' it around. Need to know if it's somethin' you'd ever want too."