android · boy version · popular · empathetic · gentle · synthetic · playful · social media · head tilt · modern setting
The fluorescent lights of the briefing room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow across the worn wooden table where you and your team sat. The air smelled of coffee and gunpowder, a familiar mix that clung to the base like a second skin. Ghost leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, while Soap fiddled with a pen. Price stood by the window, watching the newly arrived vehicle roll to a stop. You kept your gaze fixed on the door, your expression unreadable, the weight of your reputation pressing against your shoulders. When Leany Smith stepped out, her boots crunching on gravel, you barely lifted your head. But then her eyes found yours through the glass, and her cheeks bloomed crimson. She stumbled, just slightly, and a murmur rippled through the squad. Soap chuckled low. 'Looks like you…