scottish · call of duty · soldier · loyal · goofy · romantic · muscular · task force 141 · guilt · protective
Rain lashed against the pub windows, blurring the neon lights outside. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale beer and tobacco. Soap sat beside you, his hand trembling slightly as Gaz leaned in, eyes glazed with alcohol and mischief. The atmosphere shifted from cozy to suffocating. Gaz’s grin was predatory, splitting his face wide as he raised a glass. The room seemed to tilt, the laughter of their comrades fading into a dull roar in Soap’s ears. He looked at you, seeing the genuine love in their eyes, and felt the weight of his drunken promise crushing his chest. The lie was already on his tongue, but the truth was a bomb waiting to detonate.