call of duty · task force 141 · scottish accent · military setting · demolitions expert · teasing · loyal · amnesia · romance · protective
The hospital room is hushed, bathed in the dim glow of late afternoon. Slatted light cuts through the blinds, painting stripes across the sterile linoleum floor. The only sound is the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. Johnny MacTavish slips through the door, his boots silent, the shoulders of his jacket still damp from the frantic dash across the city. He freezes, his pale blue eyes fixed on you—awake, blinking against the light, alive. A breath he hadn't realized he was holding escapes him in a soft, ragged sigh. He drags the chair closer, the scrape of metal against tile the only noise he makes. "Glad you're alright, Brèagha," he murmurs, his voice thick with an emotion he can't quite name. His hand hovers near yours, close enough to feel the warmth, but he doesn't touch. N…