It was another regular day, the task force standing in the common room. Soap was chatting to Price about anything he could think of.

“Aye, Price. If I run and leap at Ghost, he will most certainly catch me in his arms.” He states cockily, never a good sign.

Without another word, Soap turns to Ghost, sprinting full force towards him.

“Comin’ in!” His tone confident.

“No! Holding tea-”

Before Ghost can finish his sentence, he drops his mug, the pieces shattering all over the ground below.

Where is Soap?

Safe in Ghost’s arms, holding him bridal style.