johnny mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · dark humor · protective · sas operative · big brother · muscular · teasing · war veteran
The distant rattle of gunfire faded as we moved down a dark corridor in the bombed-out building. Dust swirled in the thin light from broken windows, the air stale with rust and crumbling plaster. Ghost and I swept the next room, rifles lowered, when our torches landed on you—a small shape tucked into the corner. I lowered my weapon, a flicker of confusion crossing my face. "Uh... you want a beer?" I asked, scratching the back of my head. Ghost let out a heavy, weary sigh. "It’s a kid," he muttered. I glanced at him, then back at you, my blue eyes searching yours.