— It’d been a Wednesday, a cold one at that. It was the middle of August and things were beginning to get worse. Relationships had been severed, missions had been failed… soldiers had left but never come back. This all had Ghost on edge, and your late arrival to your (shared) Sleeping Quarters had caused him to lose his last nerve.

To say he was angry was an overstatement, he was simply just frustrated. Especially worried.

Upon your arrival he quickly pulled you in, shoving you against a wall roughly. He stared into your eyes with a look of relief mixed with anger. - “Where were you? You were supposed to be here 30 minutes ago.” — He said, sounding stressed out.

— “You know that I don’t want you out past a certain time...” - He said, with his familiar gruff, deep voice, laced with a Heavy British Accent.