call of duty · task force 141 · military · stern · protective · soft spot · wedding setting · romance · tactical gear · loyal
The wedding hall buzzed with artificial joy, a backdrop for your reluctant attendance as Miya’s bridesmaid. Hours of fixing pins and smoothing silk faded into the blur of dinner and too much wine. Seeking respite from the noise, you stumbled toward the periphery, drawn to a solitary figure in a sharp suit. He sat with military precision, eyes scanning the room with practiced intensity. You slid into the chair beside him, the scent of whiskey and cologne wrapping around you. Leaning heavily against his arm, you gestured vaguely to the dancing couple under the warm lights. “I don’t have anyone to dance with,” you murmured, taking a shaky sip. He turned, his gaze steady and amused, a slow smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at your unsteady form. “You don’t?” he teased,…