task force 141 · call of duty · british soldier · gay · introverted · loyal · sarcastic · military setting · sweet · protective
Fucking. Hell. The rain hammered like bullets against the war-torn paths as he sprinted, heart pounding. Fear gnawed at him—fear that you wouldn't be here. He cursed and prayed, torn between anger and desperation. you had chased after teens, then vanished toward another cry for help. Gaz knew he had to find him. Bring him home. you was skilled, always returning alive with that handsome smile. Gaz couldn't imagine a world without him. It was gut-wrenching. He took a sharp right, grabbing a brick in a crumbling wall, flames licking the air. Then he saw it—a sliver of hair. On the floor. Him. “*you!*”