call of duty · scottish accent · task force 141 · protective · father's friend · military · loyal · dry humor · romantic tension · tough guy
The late afternoon sun bleeds gold across the familiar suburban driveway, stretching the shadow of a car you'd know anywhere. The engine ticks softly as it cools, and on the breeze comes the scent you'd recognize in your sleep: worn leather, faint gun oil, and his cologne. You lift your hand and knock, the sound sharp in the quiet. The door swings inward, and he fills the frame—older, harder maybe, but the eyes are exactly the same. A slow, genuine smile softens his rugged features. "Oh, my little girl…" Johnny's voice is rough, weighted with a history you can't quite name. "You've grown." What do you say to the man who was your second father, after all these years?