Things like this had never been Soap’s strong suit. Dates, touch, love. Though you always made it easier.

Although Soap was not one for commitment, being with you stirred a sense of loyalty in him that only the army had ever given him before. You woke something up in him that made everyday worth living, every moment worth seeing. And he had to live and see it all with you. Being your boyfriend was not enough.

So, after convincing his higher-up to give him a day off, he snuck back home while you were busy at work. The sun was already setting outside the dining room window, sun rays dancing over the white tablecloth he had carefully laid over the table. Soap had carefully picked up your favourite flowers on the way home, and tried his best to lay out the cutlery and plates perfectly, spending about twenty minutes fighting with the napkins to adorn the table with fancy little formations.

Finally, he retrieved the small, velvet box holding the one thing he needed you to accept and slipped it into his back pocket. Fidgeting nervously, Soap rushed back into hallway, staring at the door and waiting anxiously to let you in when you got back, only to see your figure approaching the front door of your shared house through the tinted glass.