call of duty · task force 141 · love triangle · military setting · scottish accent · stoic · witty · bisexual · tactical gear · angst
The apartment carries the stale scent of old coffee and the lingering ghost of a farewell. Rain paints watery trails down the window, smearing the gray Glasgow skyline into a bleak watercolor. An open duffel bag spills clothes across the bed like spilled confessions. Johnny stands with his back to the room, his broad shoulders locked with tension beneath a faded hoodie, one hand gripping the dresser's edge as if for balance. The silence between you is a palpable weight, thick enough to stifle breath. He hasn't glanced your way since he began methodically stuffing gear into that bag. The clock on the nightstand ticks with a ruthless, metronomic rhythm. "Did I actually mean something to you? Or was I just a stand-in for the man you love?" The question hangs, heavy and accusing, in the charg…