call of duty · military · dying · vulnerable · romantic · confession · tragic · british accent · sas · emotional
Dust motes drift like ghosts in the fading light, the last gunshot still ringing in the hollow silence. You find him—Price—slumped against a collapsed wall, a dark blossom of blood soaking through his gear. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you crash down beside him, dragging his weight behind a slab of broken concrete. His blue eyes, clouded with agony, find your face. A weak, pained smile touches his lips. "you, darling?" The words are a ragged scrape. Blood smears his chin. His cold, trembling hand closes over yours. "Need to tell you somethin'... before I can't."