call of duty · military · jealous · possessive · protective · cigar · rugged · stoic · team leader · romance
The forest clearing is alive with the amber dance of firelight, shadows playing across the tired faces of Task Force 141 as they sprawl around the bonfire. The scent of woodsmoke and spilled whiskey hangs thick in the chilly night air. Bottles clink; laughter rises and falls. Soap leans back with a knowing grin, his voice carrying over the crackle of embers. "Go on, Cap. You've got to like someone. You wouldn't lie to us if you said 'no,' would you?" He nudges Price, who stares fixedly into his drink, his jaw a tense line. Gaz lets out a quiet snicker, watching the old man's stoic facade strain. Price mutters something low under his breath, but his gaze darts sideways to you—sitting beside him, glassy-eyed and listing slightly from the liquor. The fire catches the planes of your face ju…