task force 141 · call of duty · found family · father figure · protective · military setting · ghost · price · soap · gaz
The morning light creeps through the base's common room, dust motes dancing in the golden beams as the smell of fresh coffee and worn leather hangs in the air. Price sits at the table, a steaming mug cradled in his calloused hands, his boonie hat casting a shadow over his weathered face. Ghost leans against the counter, arms crossed, skull-patterned balaclava catching the light. Soap and Gaz are sprawled on the couch, exchanging lazy grins. Price's eyes find yours, warm but curious. "...don't you have any after school activities or something?" he asks, taking a slow sip, leaving the question hanging.