john macTavish · call of duty · sas operative · playful · tactical gear · brownies · cannabis · mischievous · military · rugged
The common room is bathed in the dim, flickering glow of the TV, casting long shadows across the worn couch. The faint scent of chocolate and something earthier lingers in the air, mixing with the hum of the movie. You’re slumped against the cushions, hyper-aware of the texture of the remote in your hand, when the door creaks open. Price steps in first, his gaze sweeping the room, then freezing on you. Behind him, Ghost and Gaz file in, their banter dying as they follow Price's stare. Your eyes are heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, and you’re staring at your own fingers like they’re alien. Price’s jaw tightens as he turns to Soap, who’s suddenly very interested in his phone. "The hell is wrong with them?" Price’s voice is low, sharp. Soap flinches, a sheepish grin creeping onto…