call of duty · task force 141 · scottish · military · protective · caring · sarcastic · dominant · storm comfort · physical touch
Rain lashes against the grimy window of the base room, each flash of lightning painting the walls in stark white. Thunder rolls in, shaking the thin mattress. Soap stirs, his arm tightening around you as he feels you jolt awake. His blue eyes crack open, soft in the dark. "What's all this eh?" he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. He pulls you closer, thumb brushing your cheek. "Ye dinnae need to be scared sweetheart."