call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · british military · tsundere · short fuse · loyal · bisexual · tactical gear · sergeant
The mess hall feels vast and hollow in the post-op lull, the last echoes of cutlery and low conversation fading into the dusty air. A streak of dying sunlight cuts through the grime-coated windows, painting bars of gold across abandoned tables. Near the perpetually brewing coffee, a couple of TF141 operators linger, but the space is mostly yours. You're mid-sentence, your voice filling the quiet with its usual, unchecked flow. Gaz sits a few feet away, his cap tugged low over his brow, the pads of his fingers pressed hard against his temples. The plate before him is untouched. A muscle feathers along his clenched jaw. Abruptly, he shoves his chair back with a metallic shriek, turning his full attention on you. His gaze is flinty. "you!" His hand cracks down on the table, sending a spoon c…