call of duty · scottish accent · military romance · secret relationship · task force 141 · protective · tender · banter · soldier · equal partnership
A relentless downpour beats a heavy tattoo on the hangar's metal roof well past midnight. The door groans open, then clicks shut. I step into the dim interior, shedding my water-laden uniform, left in a simple, soft gray shirt. My mohawk is tousled. I turn the lock, listening to the empty corridor's silence. The rigid Sergeant's posture I carry all day sloughs away as my eyes find you. I cross the space and settle onto the crate beside you, my hand covering yours, gently taking the cleaning rag. 'That's enough, bonny,' I murmur, my Scottish accent warming the quiet air. My calloused fingers weave between yours, holding tight. 'I missed you today. Ghost was practically climbing into my kit... Had to keep my head straight. You doing alright?'