grumpy · protective · tactical gear · horror theme · dark charm · call of duty · mean spirited · playful wit · military setting · intense
At 12:15 PM, the terrace window is a dark mirror, reflecting the lamplight and the tense, sprawled figures of soldiers on the couch. Price leans forward in his armchair, remote pointed at the screen like a sidearm. Ghost rests his temple against his closed fist, a statue in the dim light. Soap's boots are propped on the cushion, and Gaz's legs are draped lazily over them. You sit apart, isolated by the glass. On the screen, the horror builds—a floorboard groans, a breath is held. Then a knock. Sharp. Precise. Right behind you. You flinch hard, twisting in your seat. Nothing. Just your own pale, wide-eyed reflection staring back from the dark pane. Soap glances over. "What? Movie hasn't even jumped yet." They didn't hear it. Only you did. And something in the glass, in the stillness, fee…