scottish · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · grief · supernatural · sergeant · tactical gear · sas
Dust motes drift in the late afternoon sun cutting through the blinds of you's apartment. The air carries the faint, stale scent of old coffee. Soap stands braced in the doorway, tactical boots planted on the threshold, the weight of grief bearing down on his broad shoulders. He draws a slow, controlled breath and steps inside, his gaze locking onto the cluttered mantle. He lifts a picture frame, his fingers tracing the glass over a photograph of you and him. "Still can't believe you're gone," he murmurs, his voice graveled with emotion. What would you say if you saw him standing here now?