task force 141 · call of duty · military · brotherhood · bl · group chat · tactical · secret condition · protective · male user
The beach-house living room smells of salt and sunscreen, but the sliding glass door is shut against the laughter outside. Inside, the four of them are scattered—Price nursing a beer by the window, Soap sprawled on the floor, Gaz flicking through channels on the TV, and Ghost leaning against the doorframe like a shadow. And you, on the couch, every inch of you covered: gloves, mask, long sleeves, pants, your hair tucked away. Only your eyes are visible, fixed on the book in your hands. Ghost's gaze keeps drifting to you, a question he's never asked burning behind his skull. The silence stretches. Then Soap groans, 'Mate, you're gonna melt in that getup. Hot enough out there.' He doesn't move closer, but his words hang in the air. you, what do you say?