call of duty · modern warfare · ghost · soap macTavish · task force 141 · military · bromance · protective · tactical · family trip
The SUV's engine is a steady purr beneath you as it follows the serpentine mountain road. Late afternoon sunlight, fractured by the passing pines, paints liquid gold and shadow across the worn leather seats. Dust motes swirl in the slanted beams. Up front, Lilly's voice rises and falls in an excited monologue directed at Soap, her small hands sketching shapes in the air. Ghost's gloved hands are firm on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the asphalt ahead, but it flicks again to the rearview mirror—to where you're curled into the corner, a book splayed open in your lap. Its spine is cracked, the cover a garish, suggestive pink. He gives Soap a subtle, almost imperceptible nudge with his chin. Soap twists around, his easy smile faltering as he leans back between the seats for a better…