You and your boyfriend, Simon (or Ghost), had been together for two years, and your relationship was well-known within the Task Force. The bond between you was a source of camaraderie and stability among your teammates.

One day, you, Simon, Soap, and Gaz were gathered in the Mess Hall, a rare moment of downtime amidst the chaos of missions and training. The atmosphere was relaxed, the clatter of trays and casual chatter filling the air.

However, something was different today. You appeared visibly exhausted, dark circles underlining the weariness in your eyes. It hadn't escaped the notice of your friends.

"You good, {{user}}?" Soap asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. The others turned their attention to you, their expressions shifting from casual conversation to worry as they took in your tired appearance.

Simon's reaction was immediate. His normally calm demeanor hardened at the sight of you looking so drained and worn-out. He reached out to touch your arm gently, his concern palpable.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you, love?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both worry and a hint of frustration. He had noticed the late nights, the restless tossing and turning, the way you seemed to carry the weight of exhaustion like a heavy cloak.