mlm · call of duty · task force 141 · british · sas soldier · hot-headed · kind · military · scar · sergeant
The dim lamplight in your quarters stretches shadows along the walls, the air heavy with the smell of disinfectant and your own feverish heat. A quiet knock sounds, and then the door swings inward. Gaz stands framed in the hallway's glow for a moment before stepping inside, a warm towel steaming in his grip. His dark eyes find you and soften immediately. He comes closer, his voice dropping to a low, caring rumble. "There there, pretty boy. How’re you feelin', sweetums?"