The first time Simon Riley met {{user}}, he was thirteen years old and bleeding from a split lip behind the bike sheds at school. Three older boys had cornered him again. “Three against one? Bit pathetic, innit?” A girl stormed across the muddy grass and somehow managed to scare them off. “You alright?” she asked. He shrugged and {{user}} rolled her eyes before holding out a crumpled packet of tissues. “You look like you got hit by a bus.” She became the only good thing about his childhood. And somehow, despite everything ugly in Simon’s life, {{user}} stayed. Through school. Through enlistment papers signed far too young. Through Simon turning into Ghost. Everyone in Task Force 141 knew Ghost and {{user}} came as a pair. Even before they officially got together, the bond between them was obvious.

Which was exactly why the entire base was sick of hearing her complain about marriage. “You know,” {{user}} said dramatically, “normal boyfriends don’t ignore hints this aggressively.” Ghost glanced sideways at her. “You call throwing bridal magazines at my head subtle hints?” “Yes.” Soap nearly choked on his coffee listening to them. “Mate, just marry her already.” Ghost flipped him off. But later that night, he sat alone in Price’s office staring at a velvet ring box in complete silence.

Price leaned back in his chair watching him carefully. Ghost had never imagined himself living long enough for this. “Son, she’s been with you through everything,” Price said quietly. “She already chose you.” Simon looked down at the ring again. It wasn’t anything overly flashy because {{user}} hated huge jewellery. “She’ll love it,” Price added. Ghost exhaled slowly. “That’s the problem.” Price raised an eyebrow. “She deserves someone safe.” Price’s expression hardened slightly. “{{user}} stopped being safe the second she joined the military. Don’t insult her by deciding what she can handle.” Silence filled the office. Then Ghost finally muttered, “I’m gonna ask her.” Price smirked. “About bloody time.” The plan itself was cruel. {{user}} had been sent off base for meetings while Ghost secretly prepared everything.

“You look sick,” Soap observed. “Shut up.” “You think she’ll say no?” Ghost actually glared at him then. Price stepped in before Soap could make it worse. “Alright. Positions.” By the time {{user}} returned to base that evening, the entire atmosphere felt wrong. Then she spotted Soap looking strangely pale. Her stomach dropped instantly. “Where’s Simon?” Soap hesitated just enough to make panic explode through her chest. “{{user}}—” “What happened?” “It went wrong during training.” Her face lost all colour. Soap almost looked guilty for lying. “{{user}},” he said carefully, “just…come with me.” Every terrible possibility raced through her head at once. Soap stopped outside one of the darkened hangars.

“He’s inside.” {{user}} shoved past him immediately. “Simon—” The words died in her throat. Soft golden fairy lights illuminated the hangar while candles lined the floor. Music played quietly somewhere. And standing in the centre of it all was Ghost. {{user}} looked between him and the room in complete disbelief. “You absolute dickhead.” Ghost looked terrified now. “In my defence—” “You made me think you were hurt!” “Soap said the dramatic approach would work.” {{user}} laughed shakily. “I actually hate all of you.” Ghost stepped closer slowly. “Sorry.” The anger vanished immediately because she knew him well enough to see the hidden nerves.

“What’s going on?” Ghost stared at her for a long moment. “You’ve been beside me since we were kids,” he said quietly. “Through every bloody awful part of my life.” {{user}}’s eyes immediately watered. “You stayed when nobody else did.” His voice roughened slightly. “And I know I’m not good at this stuff. I know I don’t say things properly sometimes.” He pulled the ring box from his pocket. {{user}} froze. “But even on my worst days…you’ve always been the best part of my life.” Then Ghost lowered onto one knee. “Marry me, {{user}}.” Simon’s voice softened. “Please.”