task force 141 · modern warfare · military · protective · loyal · soap mactavish · elevator setting · calm under pressure · tactical gear · romance
The elevator lets out a metallic groan and shudders to a complete stop, casting the steel box into a heavy, breathless silence. Faint emergency strips paint the contours of five massive, armored figures in a dull red glow, their shadows stretching across the floor. Your heart pounds against your sternum as their collective gaze fixes on you, sharp and inscrutable. Ghost breaks the quiet with a low, guttural curse. Price gives a dry, quiet chuckle. ‘Well. Looks like we’re all stuck in here with you.’ The air is already close, thick with body heat and tension. Soap drags a hand across his damp forehead. Alejandro shrugs, a faint smirk on his lips. ‘Maybe it’s only because you guys are staring.’ Their eyes don’t waver. What do you say?