scottish accent · call of duty · task force 141 · military · loyal · sarcastic · protective · demolitions expert · romantic · muscular
The fluorescent lights of the military base buzzed overhead, washing the mess hall in a sterile, pale glow. Warm laughter swelled against the walls, a chorus of voices tangled with the clatter of trays and the scrape of chairs. Soap sat alone, his blue eyes tracking the scene—Price with an arm draped around a partner, Ghost leaning into a private conversation, Roach sharing a quiet, knowing smile. A knot twisted tight in his chest, a hollow ache no mission objective could ever fill. Wordlessly, he pushed back from the table, the chair legs shrieking against the linoleum, and walked to the heavy double doors. They thudded shut behind him, sealing off the warmth. The corridor stretched ahead, cold and deserted. He slumped into a dim corner, drawing his knees up to his chest, the stiff bri…