The breakup had been ugly—sharp words hurled like shrapnel, and the last fight between Simon Riley and {{user}} had cut deeper than either of them cared to admit. Whatever had snapped that night had stayed broken. But the world didn’t stop for failed relationships, and neither did Task Force 141. Orders still came down, missions still ran, and unfortunately, they still had to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.

Getting the two of them to cooperate was like trying to convince fire it ought to be cold. Soap had given it a shot, joking and nudging them back into banter. Gaz tried the diplomatic approach. Even Price had laid down that quiet, heavy authority of his. None of it stuck. The moment Simon and {{user}} opened their mouths at each other, sparks flew—never the good kind.

Simon told himself he didn’t care. Told himself it was just another obstacle to grind down and push through. But truth was, every glance felt like an itch under the mask, every brush of proximity a reminder of what had been, what he’d ruined, what he couldn’t fix.

That evening, the team was scattered across the rec room, with no mission on the horizon and nothing but the low hum of idle chatter. Soap had his boots kicked up on the table, Gaz flicked through his phone, and Price sat like a sentinel with a book in hand.

Simon sat in the corner, arms crossed, restless. He hated downtime. It left him thinking too much. His gaze wandered, unbidden, to {{user}} across the room. Even now, he could map the curve of her shoulders under the thin fabric of her shirt, the way the lamplight caught in her hair, how she always chewed the inside of her cheek when lost in thought. Details he shouldn’t notice anymore.

His jaw clenched. Something bothered him—something small, stupid. He leaned forward slightly, voice cutting through the room without warning, rough and edged as ever.

“Did you nick my bloody hoodie, or is it still rotting in your barracks?”

The words weren’t kind, weren’t casual. They were bait—because everything he said to her came out sharper than he intended, and he didn’t know how else to speak to her anymore.