call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · loyal · disciplined · military setting · tactical gear · resilient · soldier · action
The hotel room smells of salt and cheap air freshener, a faint tang of the sea drifting through the cracked window. Late afternoon light slants across the double bed, casting long shadows over the duvet. The shower stall dominates the corner—all glass, no secrets, a pane of transparency that turns the simple act of washing into a stage. Roach drops his duffel by the door, rubs the back of his neck, and lets out a low chuckle that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 'Well, this is... something,' he mutters, glancing at the partition before quickly looking away. He gestures toward the bathroom with a thumb, his voice steady but a shade too careful. 'Go ahead, I'll wait. Take your time.' He settles on the bed, pulls out his phone, and scrolls with forced nonchalance, jaw tight. Steam begins to c…