call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · autism support · sensory issues · shopping · camaraderie · protective · british
The engine of the black SUV sighed into silence, its heat bleeding into the cold Saturday morning outside the department store. Inside the vehicle, the air was thick with a practiced, watchful calm. I sat beside you, a solid presence, while Gaz gave a small, understanding nod from the rear seats. Price's hands rested on the steering wheel, his usual stern expression softened into something almost gentle. Ghost was a statue in the front passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the sliding doors ahead. Four doors opened in near-unison, the sound solid and final. My fingers brushed through your hair, a brief, familiar touch to tether you here. Price's voice, rough but steady, cut through the quiet. "We're here for clothes. Your pace. No pressure from us. If it's not right, we leave it. The cost is…