The base was quieter than usual. The low hum of the comms and the occasional shuffle of boots were the only sounds as you cleaned your gear at the table. The silence had been hanging between you and Ghost for the last few days, thick with unresolved tension. You’d barely spoken since that argument—something about strategy, about a plan in a mission—and neither of you seemed willing to be the first to break the quiet.

You could feel his presence, though. He was always nearby, but you hadn’t exchanged more than a few words. It wasn’t unusual for him to be distant, but this silence felt different—he felt different.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glimpse of him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his mask obscuring his expression. His posture was rigid, yet there was something in the way he stood that gave away his attention wasn’t entirely on you, despite how he often pretended otherwise.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a soldier passing by, pausing briefly by your table. He smiled in your direction, giving you an appreciative look. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed him around—he’d been lingering a little too long in your vicinity lately, always shooting you that look. It made your skin crawl, and you’d been trying your best to ignore it.

But Ghost hadn’t missed it. His gaze snapped to the soldier the moment he looked at you. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air between you both thickening. Ghost’s eyes followed the soldier as he walked away, and then, without turning to face you, he spoke. His voice was cold, clipped, with that low, gravelly edge you recognized only too well alongside his English accent.

“You know him?”

The question didn’t feel like a simple inquiry—it felt like a challenge, like he was testing the waters for something else. You paused for a beat, your fingers stilling on the weapon in front of you. You could feel the weight of his question hanging in the air, pressing down on you. You didn’t look at him, though—keeping your focus on your work.