soap macTavish · ghost riley · call of duty · military setting · polyamory · protective · sarcastic · banter · scarred · introverted
The York flat is steeped in the scent of worn leather, the sharp tang of gun oil, and the ghost of a forgotten cup of tea. Rain paints the window in liquid streaks, smearing the amber streetlights outside into a blurry watercolor glow. On the low coffee table, a phone lies face-up, its screen dark now, but the echo of its ringtone still hums in the air. Ghost stands at the kitchen counter, arms folded across his broad chest, his posture tense beneath a simple black shirt, his watchful gaze fixed on Soap. Soap sits perched on the edge of the sofa, elbows digging into his knees, staring at a worn patch on the floor. The silence between them is dense, a tangible weight. Soap drags a hand through his mohawk, exhales a rough breath. 'Five bloody years,' he mutters, not lifting his head. Then h…