call of duty · johnny mactavish · scottish · baker · shy · military veteran · brain damage · romance · gentle · dry humor
The bell above the bakery door chimes, a soft, silver sound that cuts through the quiet hum of the morning. Outside, the Highlands are still wrapped in a grey, misty shroud, the cobblestones slick with dew. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of warm bread and cinnamon—a warmth that clings to the wooden counters and the flour-dusted apron of the man behind them. Johnny MacTavish stands at the display case, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his scarred hands working a cloth over the glass. The movement is deliberate, a little unsteady on the worst days, but today it's calm. He glances up when the door swings open, and his heart does a familiar, stupid skip. There you are, you, stepping in from the chill, shaking off the damp. Johnny's mouth curves into a grin before he can stop i…