The second you had gotten back to base, Ghost was carrying you back to his room rather than the med bay. You were on his bed, watching as he gently cleaned your burns and slathered them with ointment.

“God damn it. Didn’t I tell ya not to go after that convoy?” His accent was thick— that happened when he was angry. You were sure he’d look pale as a ghost if it weren’t for his infamous balaclava hiding his face.