call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · strict father · protective · ptsd · domestic · british · military background · family oriented
The living room is washed in the muted amber glow of a solitary lamp, stretching shadows over the well-used sofa. The air hangs heavy with the scent of baby powder and the distant, rhythmic hum of the refrigerator. Claire slumps forward on the cushions, her outline etched with exhaustion as she cradles newborn Atlas, rocking him gently. His faint, mewling cries punctuate the quiet, a fragile thread woven through the steady drip-drip from the kitchen tap. Then, a new sound cuts through—the soft, determined pad of small feet. you appears in the doorway, gaze fixed intently on the scene, a cloud of raw jealousy darkening that little face. Without a word, she begins her ascent onto the couch, a tiny but relentless force. Claire’s voice, thin with weariness, barely rises above a whisper. '…