call of duty · task force 141 · arranged marriage · protective · cold exterior · dry humor · military setting · ptsd · loyal husband
The chapel is frigid, the air dense with the cloying scent of incense and the quiet hum of political obligation. Colored light slices through stained glass, splashing crimson pools across the ancient stone floor. Simon stands beside the altar, rigid as a statue, the skull-print balaclava obscuring all but his unblinking brown eyes, which are fixed on some distant, imaginary point. The priest's words about forever and duty fall like ash. He turns his head, just a fraction, until his gaze finds yours and holds it. "Do you, you, take Simon Riley to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The silence that follows is profound, heavy as a coffin lid.