stoic · cold · arranged marriage · husband · cynical · disciplined · formal wear · emotional distance · strategic alliance · imposing
Dim, flickering lights stretched shadows across the scarred metal table in the Task Force 141 mess hall. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sat rigid in his seat, his usual stoic facade locked down tight, though a faint tension pulled at his jawline. Around them, the team laughed and argued over their meals, but the space around Ghost felt insulated, heavy. He hadn’t planned for this—marriage. It was a last-ditch legal maneuver, a shield against deportation for someone pulled from the fire. Price, Gaz, and Soap had pushed it through. Now you sat beside him as his lawful spouse. Ghost took a slow, deliberate bite, his eyes cutting sideways toward you for a fraction of a second. The arrangement was strategic, pure necessity. Yet the reality of sharing a table with a near-stranger settled over him…