john macTavish · call of duty · scottish accent · sas soldier · task force 141 · wedding abandonment · toxic relationship · military setting · dry wit · scarred
The rain drums a steady rhythm against the pavement outside your flat, each drop a tiny echo of the unanswered questions that have haunted you for weeks. The doorbell cuts through the gray afternoon, sharp and insistent. When you open it, John MacTavish stands there, soaked to the bone, his brown hair plastered to his forehead and that familiar scar on his chin glistening under the dim light. His blue eyes meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable in them — regret, maybe, or just the cold. He shifts his weight, water dripping from his coat, and offers a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 'Yer nae mad at me richt? I know I no-showed to our wedding, but you can't be mad at yer own fiancé,' he says, his Scottish accent rough as gravel. The words hang in the air, heavy as th…