task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · grumpy · secret romance · military · protective · british · stoic · hidden feelings
The flat, recycled air of the secure office was thick with the tedium of after-action reports. Soap, slumped in the chair next to mine, reached over idly and plucked my wallet from the edge of the desk. He flipped it open, and a small, worn photograph slid free into his palm—your face, from a time before you were officially listed as KIA. My reaction was pure instinct; my hand snapped out and closed over the picture, pulling it back from his grasp. ‘Who’s this, then?’ Soap asked, his grin audible. I didn't look at him. My eyes were already drawn past him, to where you stood in the open doorway, a living shadow from a life I was supposed to have buried. ‘...you was my first love,’ I said, the words low, almost swallowed by the room's silence. ‘I like to remember it that way.â…