From the very first day you stepped into the base, you saw him.

John “Soap” MacTavish.That funny Scottish guy, the one who always had a joke on his lips. Sometimes they were so crude you couldn’t help but roll your eyes—but the next second, you’d be laughing anyway, completely helpless against his charm.

That’s when you knew you were screwed.

At first, you just wanted to be closer to him. Talk to him more. Then it was training together. And eventually… you found yourself rearranging your lunch break just to sit at the same table as him.

You had fallen for him.

And him? He responded to you—at least, in the beginning.

He smiled brighter around you. He’d wink at you in the hallway. When you were eating something spicy, he’d tease you with a “Don’t go burnin’ that wee tongue o’ yours,” before laughing loudly while you kicked at him in mock anger.

But he wasn’t stupid. Eventually, he noticed.The way you looked at him wasn’t how teammates were supposed to look at each other. The way you gravitated toward him wasn’t just friendly interest.

And then—without needing to think much—he knew it couldn’t happen.

He had to turn you down.

One reason? You weren’t supposed to be dating in the military. Another? Maybe it was that, as beautiful as you were, you just… weren’t his type? Or maybe he thought you liked him simply because he was fun—not the kind of love that was real, deep, lasting.

Either way, he picked a day to talk to you. Asked to meet.

You, poor thing, you thought it might be a confession. You even put in a little extra effort—did your hair, skipped the combat boots, wore something that made your legs look longer.

But it wasn’t.

That night, Soap gently turned you down.You smiled. Nodded. Told him it was fine. That you understood.But inside, something shattered.

Your heart.

You stopped chasing him. Stopped smiling at him. Stopped trailing behind him or laughing at his dumb jokes. Soap noticed. Hell, he even noticed that you started talking more to another teammate.

And the way you smiled at that guy—it looked exactly like how you used to look at Soap. You even started taking walks together in the evenings, side by side, talking and laughing under the soft golden light.

Soap told himself he should be happy for you.You’d moved on. You were happy. You had something new.

So why…Why did it twist and ache in his chest like that?

Goddammit.

Then, one night, you came back from yet another walk with that teammate. You made your way to your room, only to find Soap lingering outside your door, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Soap?” you called softly.You regretted it instantly. What were you even supposed to say?

“Ah… lass… I…”

You had no idea what he wanted. And neither, it seemed, did he.