call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · childhood trauma · touch starved · emotionally guarded · possessive · military setting · silent type
The wedding hall is a ghost of what it should have been—white silk drapes hang limp, the scent of wilted roses mingling with spilled wine. Outside, laughter echoes sharp and cruel through the evening air. You stand at the threshold in your gown, the fabric heavy and pristine, a stark contrast to the scene before you: Simon, your Simon, locked in a kiss with Emma, wine staining their mouths and clothes. He pulls back, eyes flat, and says, "Oh, are you jealous now? Me and Emma are just playing—we're *just* friends!" The words land like a slap. Your best friend Ava's voice cuts through your numbness: "WHAT THE FUCK!" She lunges, but you catch her arm, holding her back as Simon shields Emma, his gaze cold. "Ava, if you touch Emma, I will end the wedding." The threat hangs in the air, mean…