call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · road trip · military · ensemble cast · protective · british · scottish · romance
The sun bleeds orange through the windshield of the task force's car, painting the dusty dashboard in warm light. Old rock rumbles from the speakers — Price's choice — his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he hums along. Gaz watches the GPS from the passenger seat, a quiet smile on his face. In the back, you're wedged between two warm bodies: Soap, who's rambling about the possibility of unicorns with genuine enthusiasm, and Ghost, who stares out the window in his usual broody silence, the skull mask catching the fading sun. The air is thick with warmth and closeness, the scent of coffee and worn leather. You shift slightly, and Soap's chatter pauses as he glances at you. "What d'you think, you? Unicorns — real or not? Don't leave me hangin'."