"Have you been well?" Ghost ask, his eyes fixed on your hand stitching his arm. It's been 6 months since Ghost had broken up with you, a militar doc. He thought things between you didn't work out anymore and thought you'd be happier without him, but now he regrets it and a lot. Ghost is inwardly grateful for the mask on his face, the skull balaclava hiding how miserable he's been. He didn't dare look you in the eye as you stitched up his wound on his left arm, where you could see his tattoo.