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The Urban Garden Rooftop was a breathtaking sight, even from a distance.

The glass-paneled structure was illuminated by golden fairy lights, giving it a warm and inviting glow. His truck was sleek and polished, the metallic paint catching the glow of the fairy lights as he pulled into the parking lot.

The rooftop venue was breathtaking, with glass panels reflecting the warm light and creating a dreamy atmosphere. The venue was an oasis in the midst of the bustling city, with greenery and twinkling lights creating a magical atmosphere.

As John pulled into the parking lot into a smooth stop, Charlie could feel the small vibrations of the engine and she inhaled deeply, trying to calm the small nerves buzzing inside her.

She watched as John stepped out of the truck, moving with ease, even in his SAS dress uniform, there was still an undeniable air of ruggedness to him. And when he opened the door for her, he extended his hand and she placed hers in his, feeling warmth of his palm sent a small shiver through her.

As he helped her down, her dress flowed around her legs, the saffron fabric shimmering under the soft lighting.

Charlie looked up, her eyes meeting his.

And he did the same before he smiled.

He held her hand with a firm yet gentle grip as he guided her toward the venue. The music that was playing when they entered, Be My Baby by The Ronettes starting playing, it was transformed into a dazzling event space. Glass walls enclosed the main hall, allowing guests to look out at the London skyline. Chandeliers hung overhead, their golden glow casting a soft radiance over the polished marble floor. Round tables with crisp white linens were scattered throughout, adorned with floral centerpieces and flickering candles. The air smelled of gourmet food and fine wine, waiters moving effortlessly through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes.

But outside was where the magic was.

The open-air rooftop had been decorated with fairy lights strung between the pergolas, ivy-wrapped railings, and a dance floor beneath the stars. Couples twirled and laughed as they danced, while others mingled at the bar, sipping on cocktails and enjoying the crisp London air.

Most of the guests were SAS soldiers—men dressed in formal uniforms, their polished boots tapping lightly against the floor. Their dates wore gowns of every shade, a sea of satin, lace, and elegance.

Charlie stayed close to John, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings yet breathtaking sight.

Then, her gaze landed on someone familiar.

Hailey.

She was laughing inside the photo booth, an SAS soldier beside her. Her dress—a deep emerald green—flowed around her as she posed with exaggerated gestures, making silly faces for the camera.

Charlie smiled softly, watching as Hailey giggled while reviewing the photo strips with her date.

I hope Hailey had found someone, she thought to herself.

"Want to slip away for a bit?" John asked as he leaned close to her ear, his voice low. "Got a private bar upstairs. Thought we'd enjoy a drink. Just us."

Charlie turned to him, her smile widening. "I'd love that."

He smirked, giving her hand a small squeeze.

He lead her through the crowd towards the upper level, they passed by people dressed in elegant gowns and sharp suits, their faces lit up by the glow of fairy lights. The rooftop garden was a stunning sight, with ivy and twinkling lights creating a dreamy atmosphere. The city skyline served as a picturesque backdrop, the lights of London twinkling like stars.

As he kept his hand securely around hers, she could feel the warmth of his palm against hers, providing a sense of security in the midst of the crowd.

The cool breeze on the rooftop made her wrap her arms around herself, but the warmth of his hand kept her comfortable. It was like breaking through a wall of sound and bodies, his hand a steady anchor amidst the chaos as they ascended to the tranquil haven above.

The bar, hidden behind a curtain of nature's adornments with only a select few couples occupying the space.

He pulled out a chair for her and then sat down on his own stool at the bar.

"What'll you have, love?" he asked, his eyes warm.

Charlie hesitated, her eyes briefly darting to the tall glass shelves behind the bar, lined with bottles with names she didn't know how to pronounce.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've never really had alcohol before."

His mouth quirked into a half-smile.

"That's fine," he said, voice dipping into that reassuring, gravel-rich tone that only she ever got to hear. "I've got you."

He turned toward the bartender, tapping his knuckles once against the polished counter.

"Two drinks," he said, "but make hers light. Something sweet. She doesn't drink."

The bartender nodded, already reaching for a bottle of elderflower liqueur.

John glanced back at Charlie, who was now watching him with her eyebrow raised and a smile tugging at her lips.

"Floral, huh?" she asked.

He smirked. "You smell like fruits or a flower most days, figured it'd suit you."

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment, lips parting in playful disbelief. "You're shameless."

"Accurate," he agreed, leaning an elbow on the bar as he faced her. "But also right."

As the bartender slides a pale drink towards her, the crystal coupe flash was known with a thin twist of lemon resting on the edge of the glass. His drink appears darker, a rich amber hue in a simple glass. Charlie lifted her wine glass and gently move close to her nose, the drink carried a sweet, floral scent, like walking through a garden in full bloom. While John did the same (since he was smirking at the way Charlie was inspecting like a detective), his nose picked up a familiar scent—sharp and woody with a hint of warmth and spice.

She took a sip. Her taste buds first hit with a burst of sweetness, almost like a bouquet of flowers before it smoothed into crisp and light.

"...That's really good," she said in surprise, blinking at the glass.

His smile turned crooked. "Told you. You'll like the second sip better."

She took another before he took his first sip.

After she placed her glass and swallowed the liquid remain, gently letting it flow from her chest. She hummed in agreement.

"You're right, tastes better for a second sip," she said before looking at him. "What are you having?"

"Bourbon since it's a fancy occasion. Don't tell the lads."

Charlie giggled.

John chuckled and took another sip of his bourbon, the warm liquid coating his throat.

"It'll be our little secret," she said with a playful smile.

He nodded, eyes crinkling at the corners. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the soft music drifting from the dancefloor below. Charlie brushed her hair over one shoulder, the golden strands catching the fairy lights above them.

"So...tell me something I don't know about the elusive Captain Price."

He raised an eyebrow. "Elusive?"

"Mysterious. Guarded." She tilted her head. "You're not exactly an open book."

John considered this, rolling the glass between his palms before he met her gaze. "Not to most people. But only you."

Her heart skipped a beat at his frank response.

"Then let me in," she said softly.

He nodded, eyes never leaving hers. "Alright. Let's see..." His mouth quirked. "Did you know I was a troublemaker as a kid?"

Her eyes widened in delight. "No! Do tell."

He chuckled low. "Well, it wasn't just me. I've got three older brothers. Each worse than the last."

Charlie leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "What were they like?"

His smile tugged at his lips as the memories surfaced, his eyes moved to his glass before her.

"Lucas was the middle one. Quiet but sharp as hell, and he's not afraid to throw a punch if needed. Thinks fast, talks faster. He's got that charm, like he could sell you sand in a desert. Bit of a hustler but he's loyal, you know? He always looked out for me when the other two couldn't."

Charlie smiled at the image. "Sounds like he was the one who kept things together."

"Sometimes. Then there's Marcus," John said, eyes narrowing playfully. "Second oldest. Hot-headed but can be nice, if he wants to be. He's the kind of bloke who'd start a bar fight just to prove he could win it."

Charlie let out a soft laugh, imagining it. "He sounds... almost like you except more nicer."

He scoffed. "No, I am not as well. Mind you, but to you? Always soft for you, sweetheart."

That made her giggle more and he continued, "then there's Silas. First born. Smart, quiet, but always a head. Like a chess player who always knows ten moves ahead. But he wasn't cruel. Just disconnected. You never quite knew what he was thinking. One minute he's your older brother, the next he's running the room like he's got a hand in every decision."

She was quiet for a beat, watching him.

"And you? Where did you fit in?"

"I was the youngest. The runt. Always trying to prove myself. Kept getting into trouble to feel seen. When Mum got sick... I think we all broke in different ways."

She moved her hand under his arm and leaned her head against his arm, moving her eyes up to him.

"Sounds like you had a handful of brothers, do you miss them?" She asked softly.

"Yeah," he admitted slowly.

"Do any one of them reach out to you or do you?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I got too much in my plate but Lucas was the only one who reach out to me and we talk, maybe an hour or a few minutes."

"And Marcus?"

"He's been in life prison after I joined the Army and... we don't know where he is today."

Charlie blinked twice.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head and gave her a sad smile. "Don't be. Lucas doesn't know I'm seeing someone. He'd be happy to meet you one day since he's married and got his life back together. Plus, he has been dying for me to settle down and get my life in order since he thinks I'm married to my job."

"Sounds familiar," she giggled and pulled away slightly before poking his arm.

"Hahah," he rolled his eyes and took another sip before placing it down. "But anyways, I did say I was a troublemaker. There was this one time I must've been, what... thirteen? Maybe fourteen. Middle of summer. We were bored—Mum was working a double shift at the factory, and Lucas had this brilliant idea to 'borrow' a van parked down the street."

Her eyes went wide. "Borrow?"

John gave her a sheepish grin. "We were stupid. Silas warned us not to, but of course, I egged Lucas on. Said we wouldn't go far, just a joyride 'round the block. Marcus was out by then, already doing his own thing—probably running with his mates or his girlfriend or doing God knows what."

"Oh, I don't like where this is going," Charlie said with a smile, half-covering her mouth with her hand.

"You shouldn't." He chuckled, then leaned in closer like he was sharing a secret. "So Lucas hot-wires the van because of course he knows how—and we're off. No license, no shoes—just us and the open road. Can you believe that?"

Charlie gasped. "You were barefoot?"

"Like a pair of bloody drunk idiots." He shook his head. "We were laughing like madmen, music blasting, windows down, thinking we were invincible. But then we took a corner too fast and clipped one of the corner bins near the park. Loud as hell. Trash flew everywhere. And just our luck, a police cruiser was rolling up the street at the same time."

"No!"

"Oh yeah," he said, laughing now. "Lucas floored it, I was in the passenger seat, screaming. And you know what I did?"

"What?"

"I threw my shirt out the window."

Charlie blinked, surprised. "Wait, what?"

He grinned. "My idea of throwing off the cops. Figured if they saw a kid in a red shirt and we ditched it, they wouldn't recognize us when we bailed. Lucas did the same thing since whatever idea I say, he agrees on because you gotta remember, back in the days when technology barely exist before the 90s. We rely on sight and words."

"That is the dumbest and most adorable thing I've ever heard."

"It worked, didn't it?" John laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that Charlie rarely got to hear. "We ditched the van in an alley two blocks over, hopped fences until we were back on our street, panting and filthy. We had to calm down since Silas was at home, arms crossed, giving us the look."

Charlie laughed with him now, warm and loud, her hand wrapping around his forearm.

"And Lucas?"

"He couldn't stop laughing. I think he called me 'Captain Wrecker' for weeks. Said if I ever joined the Army or Air Force, they'd have to put me in charge just to keep an eye on me."

Charlie beamed. "So that's where it all started."

"Maybe," John murmured, watching her with soft eyes. "Back then, I didn't care how or about any consequences, just for fun when it's not harmful. And Lucas always made me feel like I mattered. Even if it meant being stupid together."

She pressed her cheek to his arm again. "Well, I never knew Captain Price was once a troublemaker. If only I could imagine."

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea, love," he said huskily. "I was just a kid being stupid for fun."

"Like what? Break rules?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice dropped lower into gravel-like rich rumble as he leaned closer, his smirk deepening within his beard. "I had a different kind of grit back then. Reckless, wild... no orders to follow, no uniform to hide behind."

She tilted her head at him, intrigued.

"I was all elbows and attitude, bare-chested and shoeless, sprintin' through alleyways, covered in sweat and dirt, heart hammerin' just from adrenaline." He took a sip of his bourbon, eyes fixed on her. "But even then, I had this thing for control. Liked the feeling of bein' in charge. Gettin' away with it. Always one step ahead." He went on, the curve of his mouth becoming more devilish. "But now, that same dirt in me. Just focused somewhere else."

She blinked, her cheeks instantly burning.

John noticed too and he continued, "Different kind of trouble these days, sweetheart. But just as good at makin' a mess when I want to."

Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, turning away for a moment as laughter bubbled out of her in flustered disbelief. "You did not just say that."

"I did. And you're blushin'." He said, smiling smugly now.

"I am not—"

"You are. And I like it."

"You're weird," she bit her bottom lip.

"And you're cute when you're flustered." He reached out and gently touched her chin, making her face him again. His thumb touched bottom her pink lip and he caressed it. "Makes me want to keep sayin' things like that just to see how far down that blush goes."

That made her heart beat wildly more.

Quickly, she pulled away from his hand and averted her gaze. Biting her lip from smiling with her eyes focused on her flower liqueur.

"John..." she squeaked, trying not to melt under the way he was looking at her—like he could eat her alive if she asked.

He only chuckled, deep and low. He turned his eyes back to his bourbon and took it all in one swing. As he placed his bourbon down, he cleared his throat and glanced at her again.

"Better take another sip, love," he commanded.

She obeyed and drank a bit until the glass was half empty. Charlie met his gaze and she watched when he gets off the stool and extended his hand toward her.

"Dance with me," he said, his voice low.

Charlie blinked up at him. "Here?"

He titled his head, motioning to where the garden side of the rooftop was, where fairy lights twinkled against the lush greenery.

"Oh," she smiled slowly and placed her hand under his large palm.

When he pulled her up and close, they move towards the open space with the soft London air wrapping around them under the fairy twinkle lights.

One hand rested her waist before lifting her, almost to his length and holding onto her while other his hand rested at her lower back, drawing their bodies close.

Charlie let out a breathy giggle because of their height different. Giving him a timid smile, she held onto his blazer and before moving her arms encircled his neck, locking into place.

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They began to sway gently to the slow, poignant tune of Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey, creating a world all their own.

She felt small in his arms, yet cherished.

She wasn't fragile, but John held her as if she were the most precious jewel he had found in this world, something he would keep it close.

As if he had to protect her at all costs, his face lowered and leaned down before kissing her head.

She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest, his steady heartbeat she could listen beneath the fabric of his uniform, breathing in his cologne.

She exhaled softly through her nostrils.

It was heaven to her.

As the song continued, Charlie moved her face back up to him.

"John?"

"Hm?" His response was low and deep, a comforting rumble against her.

"Are you really serious?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "About... taking my hand in marriage? If you want me one hundred percent?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed gently, almost a grunt.

Charlie exhaled softly, her heart tightening.

"You only have... four days left before you leave."

He held her more firmly, and she turned her eyes away, closing them as she leaned her face against his chest. He was painfully aware.

They swayed in silence, the weight of reality pressing between them. The bittersweet truth that they didn't have forever. Only now.

"I'll miss you."

John stopped moving.

Breaking the slow rhythm of their dance, she blinked and glanced at him before his hands slid up to her face, cradling her cheeks gently. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before finally speaking.

"I know."

She shook her head, pressing her hands against his chest.

"You don't have to step down for me," she said softly.

"I know," he repeated firmly. "But I've been at war for too long, and I wanted a change."

"Do you?"

He nodded.

"Yes," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I don't want to come back to an empty flat. I don't want you waiting up at night wondering if I'll make it home. I don't want you going through what you already have—what happened to your father."

Charlie felt her eyes well up with tears at his words. She knew how much his career meant to him, how it was in his very identity. The thought that he would give it all up, for her was overwhelming.

"But this is your life, John," she said quietly, her voice almost cracked. "I could never ask you to walk away from that."

He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. "You're not asking, love. I've made up my mind. There are other ways I can serve. But there's only one of you."

Emotion welled up in her chest, lips quivering to where she pressed her lips thin.

John knew how much her father's death shaped her. How the loss of him left wounds that never fully healed. And now, here he was, standing before her, telling her he didn't want to put her through the same pain.

Charlie clenched her jaw, her chest rising and falling to where she sniffed. Unable to find her voice.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, her eyes searching his.

"You're the only thing in my life I've never regretted," he said, his voice gravelly soft but full of conviction. "If you hadn't replied a text that Soap had done it."

"Soap did it?" She almost giggled.

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it's not me."

It made her giggle more before adding, "But you answered my text?"

His expression softened. "I did."

She wiped away a tear from her eye and said, "I need to thank him for being such a good friend and playing matchmaker for you."

John sighed softly and leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of kisses.

It wasn't rushed nor desperate. And Charlie melted into him, her hands curling into his blazer, clinging to him.

He broke the kiss slowly, and his forehead rested against hers. Holding himself still, fighting for control. Her perfume, strawberry and vanilla, was intoxicating, but it was more than just that. It was her. Her warmth, her presence, the way she fit perfectly in his arms. It took everything in him not to lose himself in her right now.

He had something to do first.

John exhaled before they stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads touching, her hands resting over his heart. The fairy lights glowed softly around them as the music played on.

Finally he drew back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. The look in his eyes made her pulse quicken.

"I want to live, Charlotte," he said. "Not just survive. I want to live through life with you."

Charlie let out a shaky breath, her vision blurring just slightly.

Until he took a step back and knelt down on one knee.

Her heart stopped.

Holding onto her breath, her pupils widened.

John reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a small box. Her mouth became dry, and her eyes still widened. Focused on him. The gasps and murmurs from the guests on the upper level were faintly audible to her. His posture was calm and his face expression hadn't been fazed but like, he was certain about this moment.

"I know it's fast," he began. "Two and a half months isn't a long time. But ever since I chose you, I didn't choose you as someone to pass by or a distraction. I never thought I'd get to have this, Charlotte. I'm not young like you. I'm not one of those boys with smooth charm and a clean record. I've got scars. Years of war on my back. And a heart that's been taught to survive, not to feel. Truth is, I'm an old dog. Set in my ways. Been married to the job so long, I forgot what it meant to want more. I've spent my life walking into warzones and walking out colder until you."

She covered her mouth with her hand, her fingers trembling.

"You looked at me like I wasn't broken or a creep or both. You saw the man under the uniform and you chose me. You chose a man who lost the mother of his child and barely knew how to keep breathing afterward. You chose the soldier who's buried more brothers than he's saved. Who's watched good men die for the sake of orders, and still wakes up expecting to fail the people he loves. I gave myself to the war because it was easier than learning how to live again. I didn't think I deserved more than duty.

"Out of every man in the world—safe lads. The kind you were supposed to end up with—you chose this weathered wolf who thought his time for love had come and gone," he paused, letting out a quiet breath, almost a laugh and continued. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he said, voice growing rougher, "but I know this, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret choosing me."

He slowly opened the small box between his fingers and there was a ring.

"Charlotte Daniels..." his lips curled with a soft smile, eyes holding a glimmer of nerves despite his confidence. "Will you marry me?"

Her whole world spun. Every fiber of her being screamed that this was real. That this was happening.

The man who made her feel safe.

The man who poured his time and investment on her.

The man who loved her in ways she never knew she needed.

The man who had chosen her over everything else in his life.

A soft choked laugh escaped her lips as she tried to compose herself. She couldn't speak at first. Only tears fell down her cheeks, and her body trembled as she nodded over and over again.

"Yes," she whispered, choking out a breathless laugh. "Yes, yes—God, yes—"

John let out a sharp breath, then released a small, relieved laugh. He rose in a heartbeat, slipping the ring onto her finger before she launched herself into his arms.

He caught her easily and lifted her up before he kissed her like a man who'd finally found home.

Around them, the fairy lights twinkled like stars. Applause rose faintly from the couples who had seen, but none of it registered. In this moment, it was just them.

An old soul who never thought he'd love again.

And the young woman who chose him anyway.

Pulling back from the kiss, tears started falling down her cheeks, but there were tears of joy instead of sorrow. His smile widened before he leaned in to relish another kiss with her.