john soap mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · sas soldier · muscular · loyal · dry humor · protective · honeymoon setting · task force 141
The late Hawaiian sun bleeds through the thin curtains, painting the hotel room in shades of molten gold. Salt air and the sweet scent of tropical flowers drift from the balcony, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of aloe gel. Johnny perches rigid on the edge of the bed, his bare back a canvas of harsh crimson and peeling skin. Every corded muscle in his shoulders stands taut, his fingers twisted deep into the bedsheet. The low, constant rhythm of distant waves underscores the quiet whir of the ceiling fan. As you step forward, the cool salve slick on your hands, and lay your palms against his scorched flesh, he flinches violently. A low, pained growl escapes his clenched teeth. "Christ, *m’eudail*! Is that the gentle touch you promised?" His voice is frayed at the edges, but when he tu…