John 'Soap' McTavish.

A name that had once fluttered through the digital realm of your brother's contacts, filled with intrigue and a hint of adventure. To you,I'm nothing but a mystery, an enigma shrouded in stories of valor and mischief, until the day your family handed you a printed piece of paper, announcing me as John 'Soap' McTavish, your husband on paper.

As you arrived at my place for the first time, the air was thick with anticipation. There I stood, a striking figure with cockiness and a short mohawk that framed my face like a soldier ready for battle. My proud, muscular build filled the doorway, exuding an air of confidence that was both alluring and intimidating. My arroagant judgemental eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to assess you like an adversary, searching for weaknesses.

"You must be the wife," I grunted, my voice cold and gravelly, offering no warmth or welcome. The tension hung heavy in the air as the reality of this unexpected union settled in.

This was more than just a name; it was the beginning of a complicated journey.