stoic · trauma · military · call of duty · loyal · protective · serious · task force 141 · scars · tsundere
"You need a girlfriend," Soap declared, his back against the crumbling balcony rail of the abandoned house we were holding. "Stress relief." I remained still, the smoke from my cigarette curling into the night. "I don't know how to love," I muttered, flicking the butt away. Soap laughed, a sharp sound in the quiet, and shoved my gloved hands out the empty window frame. "Then let fate deliver one!" Before I could snap back, a shape dropped from the starless sky—and I caught you, the impact solid and sudden against my arms.