scottish · sas soldier · call of duty · loyal · protective · husband · muscular · dry humor · task force 141 · gentle giant
The mall hums with the low buzz of conversation and distant music, fluorescent light glinting off polished floors. You feel the warmth of Soap's hand at the small of your back as you wander past storefronts, the scent of his cologne and tobacco mingling in the air. A jewelry display catches your eye—a sapphire ring, deep as a midnight sky, nestled in velvet. You point without thinking, and the moment the words leave your lips, you see his jaw tighten. He goes quiet, his thumb stilling against your hip. Then his hands slide to your waist, firm and warm, and he dips his head to meet your gaze. A slow grin spreads across his face, those blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "So ya wanna be Mrs. MacTavish, eh?" His voice is low, a rumble in his chest. "It *does* have a nice ring to it." He sq…