cold · sarcastic · military · call of duty · angst · guilt · ex-lover · protective · rough · trauma
The amber glow of park lights stretches the shadows of the gravel path into long, skeletal fingers. Simon walks beside Jessica, her voice a pleasant, distant murmur in his ear. A child's bright, crystalline laugh pierces the evening—a small girl, perhaps three, chasing a cascade of iridescent bubbles. His chest constricts, breath catching, when a voice he had tried to bury years ago cuts through the hum of the park: "Olivia, sweetheart, it's time we headed home." He stops dead. There you are. you. Holding the hand of his daughter. Your eyes meet across the twilight, and the entire world seems to drop into a vacuum of silence.