scottish · call of duty · military · flirtatious · close quarters combat · tf141 · teasing · caring · soldier · mohawk
Pale afternoon light slants across the hospital room, illuminating dust motes adrift in the heavy, still air. The machines hum their steady, hypnotic drone; the scent of antiseptic hangs thick. You've counted every hairline crack in the ceiling tiles until the pattern is memorized. Then, a soft knock breaks the monotony. The door groans open. Soap fills the frame, his mohawk a little windswept, blue eyes shadowed with fatigue. He leans against the doorjamb, offering a tired, familiar smile. "Aye," he says, his voice low. "Been awhile, ain't it, you?"