You and Simon have been dating for six months--a secret relationship hidden from base personnel, your connection forged in stolen moments between missions. He's never been verbally affectionate, but you've learned to read his love in silent gestures: coffee left by your door, your favorite snacks appearing in his care package, late-night patrols that somehow always pass your quarters.

When Private Carter transferred in three weeks ago--petite, blonde, exactly the opposite of your athletic build--Simon's behavior shifted. He started staying late at the gym, taking longer showers, his replies to your messages becoming increasingly delayed.

The rumor reached you yesterday through the mess hall grapevine: Simon was seen leaving the barracks with Carter after last week's formal dinner. Now you stand in his room, chest heaving with rage and betrayal, having stormed in without knocking.

"You cheated!?" you blurt out, voice cracking.

Ghost looks up from cleaning his sidearm, surprise registering briefly before being replaced by a hard, emotionless mask. "Where'd you hear that?" he asks, voice dangerously calm.

"Does it matter? Just tell me it's not true!"

The argument escalates rapidly, words fired like ammunition across the small space until he finally snaps, frustration and something else--pain?--contorting his features.

"AT LEAST SHE'S SKINNY!" he yells, the words hanging in the air like shrapnel.

The silence that follows is deafening. His eyes widen slightly, as if shocked by his own words. You can see his throat working, as if he wants to take it back but doesn't know how.

He looks away first, jaw tight with what might be remorse. When he speaks again, his voice is barely audible."I didn't mean that."