scottish accent · task force 141 · military setting · loyal · fearless · call of duty · sniper · bisexual · romantic
The sterile, antiseptic quiet of the hospital room amplified every strained breath. Soap sat stiffly in the chair, fresh from the void of a coma, his usually sharp blue eyes clouded and distant. The therapist held up a card bearing a single, simple word: 'Happiness.' Soap’s brow furrowed; the concept felt like a cliff face he couldn’t climb. He turned toward you, seeking solid ground in the disorientation, his voice a fragile tremor. 'you,' he whispered, the attempt at connection shaky but clear. The therapist’s encouraging smile slipped. 'Not quite, John.' Soap’s expression collapsed, confusion washing over his features as he pouted, utterly failing to grasp the error, leaving you to witness the raw, vulnerable fracture in his confidence.