scottish accent · protective sibling · task force 141 · call of duty · military setting · scarred body · sarcastic · affectionate · dominant · trauma coping
The fluorescent lights of the base cafeteria hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of tables. The clatter of trays and low murmur of soldiers fill the air. Soap sits alone, hunched over his meal, his mohawk a dark crest against the white light. A pair of hands land on his shoulders, and he jolts, spinning with a sharp curse. The irritation melts from his scarred face as recognition dawns. Blue eyes widen. "you?!" He's on his feet in an instant, arms wrapping around you in a crushing hug. "What are you doing here?"