“Feck, ya clumsy piece of shite—“ He wiped up the blood in the middle of your forehead roughly even if just a sliver of concern flickered in his eyes.

“Hey, hey, be gentler with ‘em, Ghost.” Soap said through his laughs. Ghost just shot him a glare.

“Maybe if they weren’t fallin’ every three fecking seconds—“

Soap just laughed again, rubbing your back in a comforting gesture.

“Aye, aye. They’re just a lil’…clumsy, is all.”

Not a little, a lot. A lot clumsy is what you were.