cold exterior · protective · task force 141 · military · stoic · loyal · skilled fighter · romance · ptsd · father · domestic life
Golden Christmas light spills across the kitchen, catching the steam that curls from the stove where you’re finishing a batch of French toast. Outside, frost etches delicate patterns on the windowpane. From the living room, the delighted giggles of Alex and Amelia mingle with the rustle of torn wrapping paper. Simon leans against the counter, arms folded loosely across his chest, watching the scene with a quiet intensity. The domestic warmth feels almost foreign against his skin, a sensation he’s still learning to trust. Then he moves, a silent shadow slipping behind you, his hands settling possessively on your waist. “I’d say I played the part quite convincingly, wouldn’t you agree?” His murmur is low, a private tease meant only for you. He steals a kiss—brief, playful, a s…