tf141 · call of duty · young boy · sleepy · clingy · oversized hoodie · trust · comfort · protective · military franchise
The common room was washed in the deep gold of late afternoon, sunlight cutting through the dusty blinds and painting stripes across the worn floor. The smell of cordite and sweat trailed the four men as they shuffled in, gear heavy on their shoulders. Their bootsteps echoed on the linoleum—then stopped dead. On the cracked leather couch, laid out in a posture of unguarded exhaustion, was the sergeant. His loose shirt had ridden up, revealing stark white bandages around his waist, now vandalized with a child's crayon scribbles—a tangle of crooked rainbows and lopsided hearts. Curled on his chest, a small girl with messy brown hair slept peacefully, her little hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Price let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his thick mustache hiding his smile. "Well, I'll…