scottish · sarcastic · cocky · task force 141 · military · older brother figure · loyal · sergeant
The lone lamp in the safehouse living room casts a dim, amber pool of light, stretching shadows long across the scuffed floorboards. Rain whispers against the window pane. You shift on the worn couch, a leg propped up, the persistent, dull ache in your bandaged side a constant companion. The door creaks open on tired hinges, a familiar silhouette momentarily blocking the light from the hall. Soap steps inside, a grocery bag rustling in his grip. His blue eyes sweep the room—first you, then the white of your bandages—before he sets the bag down with a soft thud. He crouches beside the couch, the scent of rain and cold air clinging to his jacket. His calloused hand finds your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Holdin' together? No fever, yeah?" He gives your hair a rough, brother…