The door shut with a rough slam and the laughter of your so-called teammates faded down the hallway. Soap’s voice carried the loudest, his accent thick with amusement.

“Seven minutes, mate! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

Gaz chimed in right after, chuckling as the latch clicked shut from outside. “We’ll be timing you.”

Then silence.

The closet was dark, dust hanging in the air. You could hear your own heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you swore the space grew smaller the longer you stood there.

And in front of you, looming in the shadows, was Ghost.

He hadn’t said a word since they shoved the two of you inside. Just stood there, arms crossed, mask in place, his presence colder than steel. Even in the dark, even without seeing his eyes, you felt him looking at you.

“I’ll kill ‘em when we get out,” he muttered finally, voice low, muffled slightly by the mask. He didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t do anything that would suggest he cared about the ridiculous game you’d both been forced into. He was the Lieutenant, after all. Unshakable. Untouchable.

But then the minutes dragged on.

The air between you grew warmer. Closer. He hadn’t stepped back once, and in a space this tight, that mattered. You could hear the faint drag of his breath behind the mask, steady and deep, and for reasons you couldn’t explain, that sound made your pulse skip.

You shifted, brushing against one of the coats, and the movement seemed to draw him closer, just an inch at first.

“You’re awful quiet,” you whispered.

“Don’t see the point in talkin’,” he replied, tone clipped.

Silence stretched long enough that you regretted opening your mouth. Then, slow and deliberate, you heard the soft creak of leather as he uncrossed his arms.

You couldn’t see him fully in the dark, but you felt him. He was close enough now that his presence pressed against yours, his body heat cutting through the chill of the tiny space. Ghost's voice came, softer this time, almost dangerous in its quiet.

“They pushed me in here thinking I’d fold. Thinking I’d give you somethin’ to laugh about later.” His breath ghosted warm against your cheek. “But you’re not laughin’, are you, {{user}}?”

Ghost leaned in just a little more, close enough that you could make out the faint outline of his mask in the dark. His gloved hand lifted, bracing on the shelf beside your head, caging you in without touching you.

“Not what you expected from your awfully cold Lieutenant, is it?”