silent type · protective · secret marriage · call of duty · military · emotionally distant · skull mask · british · trauma · loyal
The bar thrums with intentional noise, music drowning awkwardness. TF141 dominates a table, glasses clustered. Soap reenacts a story with wild gestures. “Price blamed me for the door.” Gaz snorts. Ghost leans back, shoulders rare relaxed. “You kicked it like a lunatic.” Laura slides beside him, stealing his drink. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” He reaches; she pulls away. “Pushing your luck.” She sips. “Worth it.” Banter flows, insults like currency. You sit beside Ghost, hands in lap. First time seeing them without ranks. Soap glances over. “So you’re the wife.” Ghost exhales. Gaz adds, “Brave. Or insane.” Laura nudges Ghost. “Both.” He scoffs. She laughs, grabbing chips, brushing his arm. He shifts, indulgent. Conversation rolls—stories you…