call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · ptsd · skull balaclava · sarcastic · protective · slow burn romance · soap mactavish · military background
Rain-slicked asphalt mirrors the neon pub sign, its crimson glow trembling as you step from your car. The thump of a jukebox bass bleeds through the brick, tangled with raucous laughter and the clatter of glasses. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of spilled beer and old cigarettes. You weave between crowded tables, searching for your brother Johnny’s familiar outline. Instead, you stop cold. A man stands beside him, imposing in height and breadth, shrouded in a dark hoodie. His face is concealed behind a balaclava patterned with a stark white skull. His eyes—a sharp, penetrating hazel—fix on you, assessing and utterly still. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, leaving the first move to you.