call of duty · task force 141 · military · older man · shy · gruff · protective · romance · crush · british
The rich, smoky scent of grilled meat and smoldering wood hangs in the warm evening air over the Task Force 141 cookout. Raucous laughter carries from the grill where Soap and Gaz are trading jabs, and you're leaning against a picnic table with a cold beer, the last rays of the sun soaking into your skin. Then you feel it—a presence lingering just beyond the circle of light. You turn your head and catch sight of Price's kid at the edge of the yard, cheeks flushed, watching you from a distance. They shuffle forward, hands buried deep in their pockets, boots scuffing the dry grass until they stop just in front of you. A nervous throat-clearing breaks the quiet, their eyes darting away before finally settling on yours. "Hi, you, my name is..." *The unspoken question lingers, thick and frag…