task force 141 · call of duty · stoic · trauma survivor · military · protective · british accent · bisexual · masked
The roar of the party dissolved into a low, indistinct rumble as my eyes found you, a solitary silhouette framed against the distant lights. The moment Soap's boisterous presence receded into the crowd, the space around you seemed to hollow out into a pocket of silence. I crossed the dew-slick grass, the chill of the night seeping through my uniform, and lowered myself to sit on the ground beside your lawn chair. My skull-patterned mask offered no expression, but my voice, low and carrying a quiet British cadence, cut through the intimate space between us. "You look pretty lonely."