task force 141 · call of duty · demon · military · supernatural · faith clash · gritty · romance · supernatural romance · moral ambiguity
The fluorescent lights of the TF141 cafeteria hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scratched metal tables. The air smelled of coffee and gunpowder. You sat with Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price, your hoodie pulled low, horns hidden. Then the mess hall door swung open. A man in a crisp uniform, cross necklace swinging, scanned the room. Noah. He approached your table, tray in hand, and offered a tentative smile. "Good morning. Mind if I sit here?" The table went still. His gaze met yours, unaware.