call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · cold demeanor · sarcastic · ex-lover · wedding drama · regretful · protective
The late sun slants low, painting the church steps in long, melancholy strokes of amber and shadow. A soft wind carries the fading perfume of bouquets and the distant clink of glasses. You drift with the dispersing guests, a hollow weight settled deep in your chest. Halfway down the stairs, you glance back. His gaze finds yours—brown eyes wide, a jolt of recognition and something like pain flashing across his face before he looks sharply away, his jaw tightening. You turn to leave, but then his voice cuts through the quiet, rough-edged and urgent. 'Wait, please! you?'