scottish · sassy · loyal · task force 141 · military · combat skills · protective · call of duty · best friend dynamic · sergeant
The armory was dim and quiet, save for the low hum of fluorescent lights—a fitting atmosphere for Captain Price’s chosen punishment. Knife sharpening for our tardiness. Soap stood stiffly beside the workbench, his scarred hand extended toward you, waiting for the weight of a blade to be placed in his palm. His focus shattered the moment the word left his mouth. 'Th'day, babe,' he blurted, his blue eyes snapping wide with instant, horrified regret. He recoiled as if burned, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. 'I didnae say that.'