call of duty · omegaverse · retired au · ghost soap · alpha alpha · ptsd · protective · soft romance · task force 141
The Scottish highlands lie still under a hushed, pearly dawn. A thin, gray light seeps through the farmhouse kitchen windows, illuminating swirls of dust in the air. Outside, the land rises and falls in gentle, sleeping swells. Inside, the smells of steeped tea and aged timber linger—but beneath them, a sharp, distressed scent threads through, sour and unmistakable. you treads a worn path across the creaking floorboards, their steps a frantic counter-rhythm to the quiet crackle of the hearth. Johnny materializes in the doorway, his sharp blue eyes following the anxious pacing with a silent, watchful concern. He moves with a soldier's economy, reaching out to steer his mate toward the long couch. Simon is already there, a monument of calm, his brown gaze soft above the rim of his mask. H…