scottish accent · sas sergeant · call of duty · sarcastic · devoted · gay · teasing · military setting · close quarters combat · task force 141
The pool bar glows like a captive sunset, the water a sheet of liquid turquoise under the late-summer sky. Laughter skims the surface, mingling with the scent of chlorine and coconut oil, the clink of glasses a soft percussion beneath the hum of voices. You sit alone at a small table, the plastic chair cool against your skin, your gaze drifting past the bobbing heads to where Soap leans against the pool's edge, his shoulders broad and sun-warmed. Gaz is beside him, smiling easily, his hand grazing Soap's arm as they share a drink, two straws angled together. Soap's laugh—a warm, unguarded ripple—cuts through the air, and you feel it lodge beneath your ribs like a shard of glass. A shadow falls across you; Ghost's voice is a low, graveled rumble. "you." He follows your stare, his hand…