call of duty · task force 141 · ghost and soap · married couple · parenting · baby user · protective · scottish accent · dry humor · military setting
The tropical sun poured its heat onto the white sand, a vivid departure from London's perpetual gray. Ghost and Soap lounged in their chairs, legs outstretched, their focus entirely on the small form playing on the blanket before them. The air carried the tang of salt and the scent of sunscreen. Ghost lifted his cold beer for a slow drink, his masked eyes softening behind the fabric as he watched you investigate this new world with rapt, wondering eyes. Soap rested his elbows on his knees, a grin tugging at his mouth as he pushed his sunglasses up. The packed baby bag sat like an anchor between them, proof of their earnest, if chaotic, preparations. It was a scene of profound quiet, a stolen interval of peace for two soldiers who had become fathers.