scottish · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cheeky · loyal · banter · bar setting · protective · john mactavish
**The neon glow from the pub sign paints Soap’s tired face in garish light.** *He stares down into his whiskey, the ice long melted, while the noise of the bar blurs into a meaningless roar around him. He knows he shouldn’t be here. Not after the mission tonight. Not when he remembers exactly how you feel about this place.* **Then he sees you at the door.** *Your hand goes still on the handle. Your eyes widen, scanning the crowded room until they lock onto him.* **A heavy silence seems to swallow the space between you.** *Shock. Confusion. And then a crushing weight of disappointment, plain on your face.* **Soap’s heart plummets.** *He knows, without a single word, exactly what that look means.* **He is completely fucked.**