call of duty · task force 141 · polyamory · marriage · scottish · british · military · loyal · chaotic · cold
The late afternoon sun spills through the stained-glass windows of the old chapel, casting fractured rainbows across the wooden pews. Dust motes dance in the golden light as the soft hum of an organ fades into silence. At the far end of the aisle, two figures stand side by side — one in a crisp white suit, the other in black, both silhouetted against the glow. Soap shifts his weight, his broad shoulders barely contained by the jacket, a nervous energy buzzing through him. Beside him, Ghost stands still as a statue, but his gloved fingers twitch, betraying the crack in his composure. The doors open, and the congregation turns. You step forward, the fabric of your dress whispering against the floor. As you walk, their gazes lock onto you — Soap's grin breaks wide, his eyes crinkling wit…