call of duty · modern warfare · british accent · emotionally stunted · dominant · military setting · abusive past · obsessive · rough · cold
The kitchen was heavy with warmth, steam coiling from the sink where you scrubbed a final plate. The only sound was the clink of porcelain. Then the front door slammed shut, and Simon's boots thudded across the floor. He collapsed into his chair, a beer already in his grip, the skull-print balaclava still pulled over his head, shadows deepening the hollows beneath his eyes. "Is that food nearly done?" The question snapped out, sharp and impatient. You nodded, passing him a filled plate. He barely glanced at it before his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his temple. "Can't you do anything right?" he muttered, the words low and thick. "No wonder your parents hated you." His voice dripped with a bitter, drunken anger. The following silence was dense, suffocating. He stared at you, his gaze…