task force 141 · call of duty · british accent · military · sergeant · honest · silly · secret crush · athletic · action
Dust and cordite hang heavy in the stale air of the old locker room. Dim light slices through the slatted vents, painting stripes across a forgotten bench. Your pulse thunders as Gaz's hand clamps around your arm, yanking you into this cramped steel box. He presses a finger to his lips, brown eyes wide, chest heaving. "I think I hate it here," he breathes, barely a whisper, as heavy boots thunder past outside. you, you alright?