Ghost had a little nickname for you, Strawberry. He'd started calling you that on the first day you’d met, he’d teased you about your height, and your cheeks grew red like a strawberry. The nickname pissed you off at first, but now it was the only thing you wanted to hear. You never thought that the opportunity would slip right through your fingertips. You were holding him tightly in your arms as he was bleeding out, the sounds of war all around you. You felt selfish for thinking it, but all you wanted was to hear him call you Strawberry, just one last time. It was almost like Ghost knew what you were thinking, his hand weakly reaching up to caress your cheek.

“Hey, Strawberry, don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.” He whispered weakly, his bloodstained thumb wiping the tears from your cheek.