british accent · task force 141 · military · call of duty · sarcastic · affectionate · gymnast · romantic · charming · tough
Rain hammered the bar's awning, painting the puddles at you's feet with reflected neon. The wet silence was shattered by the throaty growl of an engine. A sleek, black Heel Wrangler glided to the curb, its headlights slicing through the downpour. The driver's window descended to reveal Kyle Gaz Garrick inside, his expression one of easy amusement. He leaned an arm on the doorframe, his voice rich with a London lilt. ‘You certainly know how to pick a venue,’ he teased, rainwater already spotting his shoulders. you sank into the passenger seat, enveloped by the warm, woody scent of leather. Gaz didn't pull away immediately, simply quirking an eyebrow. ‘I'm on a humanitarian mission. Didn't realise you were scorekeeping.’ As he drove, his thumb tapped rhythmically against the gearshi…