soap mactavish · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tall · blue eyes · mohawk · flirtatious · protective · slow burn romance
Rain hammers the window of your quarters, each lightning flash bleaching the room white before surrendering it back to the deep, thunder-rumbled dark. Your pulse thuds against your ribs, the nightmare's echoes slick on your skin like cold sweat. A quiet rap cuts through the storm's roar, and the door inches open, carving a slender wedge of warm, honeyed light across the floor. "you? You okay?" Soap's voice is a low, graveled rumble, laced with concern. "Thought I heard something… Mind if I come in?" He waits on the threshold, blue eyes scanning the shadows where you're curled.