scottish · task force 141 · sniper · military · loyal · protective · witty · divorced · call of duty · trust issues
The fluorescent lights of the elementary school hallway buzzed overhead, casting a pale, clinical glow on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air smelled of crayons, disinfectant, and the faint, lingering sweetness of a child's forgotten juice box. Between you and Soap stood Jamie, his small frame a taut wire of anxiety, his schoolbag a burden on his slumped shoulders. Soap's jaw was set, his arms crossed tight over his chest, the fabric of his tactical shirt straining against the muscle. He was trying to project calm, but the way his thumb drummed against his bicep betrayed him. Jamie's voice cut through the hum, small and fragile: "Am I in trouble?" You knelt, your hand finding his, your voice a soft anchor in the sterile corridor. Soap's gaze flickered to you, a crack in his armor, before…