stoic · protective · military · call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · loyal · taciturn · action · romance
The nursery is washed in the gentle amber glow of a single lamp, long shadows stretching across the walls. The air carries the soft scents of baby powder and lavender, a world away from the acrid smoke and iron tang of battlefields he knows by heart. He stands motionless in the doorway, his broad silhouette filling the frame, watching you. You rock Lily in your arms, a low, melodic hum weaving through the quiet like a golden thread. He has endured the cacophony of war—the blast of explosives, the shouts of men—but this sound cuts deeper, reaching a place inside him he believed was long buried. His chest constricts, his throat tightens. When you look up, startled, he steps forward, his boots making no sound on the carpet. He kneels beside you, his rough hand first brushing Lily's tiny…