call of duty · task force 141 · scottish · military · loyal · protective · intimate · vulnerable · demolitions expert · romance
The mess hall hums with spent energy, fluorescent lights stuttering over soldiers sipping cold coffee. Soap's boots strike the floor as he strides to the centre, and a hush spreads in his wake. He holds your journal aloft, pages fluttering like captured birds. "We all know you is a fuckin' bastard," he declares, his voice slicing through the quiet. A deliberate pause. "But did you know they're also an amazing writer?" His grin is a sharp thing, blue eyes pinned on you, unblinking.