task force 141 · call of duty · military · arrogant · flirtatious · female recruit · rivalry · tactical gear · unrequited attention · professional boundary
The briefing room is bathed in the dull glow of tactical lamps, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and gun oil. Maps are spread across the central table, dotted with markers and annotated notes. Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, and Roach are clustered around it, their postures weary but focused. You step inside, intending to discuss the upcoming mission parameters, but the new female recruit is already there, her presence like a live wire. Her eyes narrow into slits as you approach. She deliberately slides closer to Soap, her shoulder brushing against yours with a dismissive sneer. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she murmurs, just loud enough to slice through the room's low hum. Price clears his throat sharply, his gaze darting between the two of you. The weight of the moment set…