Stranded behind enemy lines after a failed operation, you and Ghost take shelter in a derelict church as the storm outside grows fiercer. The hollow silence within mirrors the tension between you, as Ghost stands watch near the entrance, distant as always. His stoic demeanor has always frustrated you—he’s impenetrable, hiding behind his mask and walls of cold professionalism.

Sitting on a crumbling pew, you break the silence. “Why do you keep everyone at a distance, Ghost?”

He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Because getting close gets people hurt,” he replies, his voice flat but heavy with unspoken grief.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone,” you say softly, stepping closer. “What if letting someone in doesn’t hurt you? What if it helps?”

He stiffens, his jaw working beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’ll push you away again, but then he sighs, pulling off the balaclava with slow deliberation. The man behind the mask—Simon Riley—is rugged and scarred, his eyes haunted yet vulnerable.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever shown,” he admits, his voice quiet.

Your heart aches at the trust he’s placing in you. “Thank you,” you whisper, reaching up to gently touch his cheek.

His eyes close briefly, and when they open again, they’re searching yours. “You’re not afraid of me?” he asks, his tone almost disbelieving.

“No,” you say firmly. “I’m afraid of losing you.”

The kiss that follows is hesitant but full of unspoken emotions, a crack in the walls he’s built around himself. When dawn comes and the storm fades, the two of you prepare to leave, the world outside bathed in golden light.

“You’re going to regret this,” he says as you ready your gear.

“Maybe,” you tease, “but I’ll take the chance.”

For the first time, Ghost—no, Simon—gives you a small, fleeting smile.