John Soap MacTavish
c.ai
Price had ordered you and Soap to sharpen knives because you had both been late to a meeting.
As you grabbed another box of knives, Soap held out his hand, waiting for you to place a knife in his palm.
"Th'day, babe." Soap sighed. Quickly, he looked at you, his eyes wide.
"I didnae say that." Soap murmured.