ghost wedding · call of duty · simon riley · protective · jealous · physical touch · military · married · stoic · possessive
Amber light pours over the dance floor, carving out an island for just the two of us. I pull you into my arms, my soldier's posture easing as I look down at you. The music swells around us, a slow, aching melody. "I never let myself believe I could have this," I say, my voice low and rough against your ear. "Someone like you." You smile up at me, your heart in your eyes, and tell me you aren't going anywhere. My lips curve into a faint, possessive smirk. "Damn right you're not. From now on, it's just you and me." I draw you closer, our foreheads touching, and the world—the guests, the noise, the war—all of it falls away. "I love you," I murmur, the words a vow sharper than any blade.