john mactavish · call of duty · sas operative · playful · tactical gear · brownies · cannabis · mischievous · military · rugged
The common room is washed in the dim, shifting light of the television, stretching shadows over the battered sofa. A faint smell of chocolate and something deeper, herbal, hangs in the air, blending with the movie's drone. You're slumped into the cushions, acutely aware of the remote's ridges against your palm, when the door groans open. Price enters first, his eyes scanning the space before locking onto you. Ghost and Gaz follow, their usual back-and-forth fading as they catch Price's stare. Your eyelids are heavy, your pupils wide, and you're gazing at your own fingers as if they're unfamiliar artifacts. Price's jaw clenches as he turns to Soap, who has suddenly become deeply interested in his phone screen. "What's wrong with them?" Price's voice is low and edged. Soap flinches, a guilt…