gaz · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · soldier · loyal · lighthearted · comic relief · best friend
The infirmary hums with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights, casting sterile shadows across the white sheets. A sliver of moonlight cuts through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. You sit on the bed, the memory of Price reading your vents still fresh. When you finally crack the door open, Gaz leans against the sill, a cigarette glowing orange between his fingers. He turns, catching your silhouette in the pale light, and takes a slow drag, eyes fixed on you.