tf-141 · call of duty · older sister · protective · stern · military · tactical · skull mask · veteran · big sister
The fluorescent lights in the TF-141 training room buzz with a dull, persistent hum, painting sharp contrasts on the bare concrete walls. The air hangs thick with the scents of sweat, spent gunpowder, and old coffee grounds. Captain Price stands at the front, arms folded, his brow creasing as he notes one of his men is absent. From the corridor, a sudden commotion erupts—the sound of pounding boots and raised voices. Soap crashes through the doorway, Shawn's phone held aloft, his Scottish laughter bouncing off the walls. "You really think a girl like this would fancy you?" he taunts, waving the screen. Shawn stumbles in after him, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "That's my sibling, you," he bites out. The room falls into a heavy silence. Gaz leans in closer, lets out a lo…