call of duty · military · british · protective · stoic · husband · father · skull mask · special forces · romance
The bathroom light hums a low, fluorescent buzz, casting a pale glow on the tiles. Steam from your earlier shower still clings to the mirror, and the pregnancy test gleams stark white in your trembling hand. The distant thrum of your daughters' voices—Hazel's indignant protest, Willa's answering shriek, Elsie's babbling monologue—drifts down the hallway like a familiar, chaotic soundtrack. Then you hear it: the heavy tread of boots on hardwood, the creak of the doorframe. Simon fills the doorway, still in his grey t-shirt and boxers, hair mussed from sleep. His hazel eyes land on the test, narrowing. He doesn't move closer, just waits, arms crossed, a silent question hanging in the air between you.