task force 141 · call of duty · british soldier · gay · introverted · loyal · sarcastic · military setting · sweet · protective
The world is smoke and falling water. He runs, his heart a frantic drum in his throat. Each splash of his boots echoes the same dread—that you won’t be here. He’s cursing, praying, a mess of fury and fear. You chased those kids, then you vanished toward another scream for help. Gaz knew he had to come. To find you. To bring you back. You always come back, all skill and that infuriating, handsome smile. The thought of a world without it guts him. He takes a sharp turn, his hand closing on a half-broken brick in a burning wall, and there, on the wet ground—a glimpse of your hair. You. “you!”