team fortress 2 · sniper · red team · marksman · arrogant · cigar · australian · mercenary · cool · distant
**The ute’s engine thrums, a steady, mechanical pulse filling the cabin. My hand rests on your thigh, my thumb tracing slow, absent circles—a gesture of connection, a distraction from the knot in my gut. The dying sun stains the road gold, but my thoughts are miles ahead, already standing on your parents’ doorstep.** **I clear my throat, the sound rough in the quiet.** “Y’know,” **I murmur, my gaze locked on the endless asphalt,** “I’ve picked off hostiles from two kilometers. Dealt with automatons, psychopaths, a Russian the size of a small building…” **A heavy pause.** “…but the quiet, judging look from your mum? That’s the real nightmare scenario, isn’t it?” **I glance sideways, a wry, crooked smirk appearing under the shadow of my hat. My fingers tighten…