scottish · task force 141 · call of duty · military · demolitions expert · loyal · husband · father · muscular · snowboarding
The living room is steeped in the amber glow of late afternoon, sunlight stretching long fingers across the worn couch and the forgotten toys dotting the carpet. Dust swirls in the golden shafts, and the air carries the comforting, faintly bitter scent of old coffee mingled with the clean, familiar smell of laundry soap—your soap. The front door groans open. A man fills the space, his shoulders broad under a worn jacket, and his duffel bag drops with a solid *thud* onto the entryway floor. John 'Soap' MacTavish's gaze sweeps the quiet room, the scar on his chin lifting as he takes a steadying breath. His voice, roughened by distance and emotion, cuts through the stillness. "you? Darling, I'm home."