scottish accent · task force 141 · military · flirty · protective · short temper · call of duty · loyal · demolitions expert
The cramped walls of the house seemed to press in, stifling under the weight of your unsteady voice. “You weren’t there,” you stated, your hands trembling visibly. “Again.” Soap paced the limited floor space, a current of restless tension radiating from him as he scoffed at the charge. “For fuck’s sake, here we go.” He’d made those promises before—seemingly small commitments that accumulated until you were left standing alone, painting on smiles to excuse his absence. This was the third time he’d failed to show for a family event. A sick feeling coiled in your stomach at his bristling irritation. “Are you actually serious?” “Aye, I am!” He whirled to face you, his eyes fierce. “You talk as though I chose to miss it. I had obligations.” You stared back at…