task force 141 · call of duty · sarcastic · sign language · military · prankster · pansexual · elite soldier · calm under pressure · team camaraderie
The only sound in the room was the crinkle of medical tape. You stared down at the cut on your arm—now a swollen, crimson line pulsing with heat. An infection. You’d let it go too far. Frantically, you wound a fresh bandage around it, your fingers trembling. You needed a shirt that would cover the evidence, something to hide the truth. Just as you were tearing through your drawer, a firm knock struck the door. “Morning, sleeping beauty!” Roach’s voice sliced through your panic, bright and unburdened. “You joining me for chow or what?” You knew, with a sinking certainty, that today would not end well.