You can never keep your eyes off Ghost. You don’t know why — he’s cold to almost everyone, a wall of silence and sharp edges — but your pulse always stutters when he’s near. Your stomach flips, your chest tightens, and you find yourself standing straighter, working harder, hoping he’ll notice. You never say any of this out loud. Not to anyone. Not even Soap, who would tease you into the grave.

You barely understand the crush yourself. Maybe it started the day you overheard Ghost and Soap trading jokes in the hallway. Ghost’s voice had been low, calm, almost gentle. You’d never heard him sound like that. It made something warm bloom in your chest, something you’ve been trying — and failing — to ignore ever since.

You’ve tried to tell him how you feel, but every time you work up the courage, he’s busy. Or gone. Or talking to someone else.

Usually Marie.

Marie transferred in a few months ago and immediately glued herself to Ghost’s side. She laughs too loudly at his dry comments, touches his arm whenever she can, and constantly reminds everyone how “close” they are. She’s the type who insists she’s “not like other girls” while doing everything possible to make sure every man in the room is looking at her.

And she’s definitely noticed the way you look at Ghost.

Whenever you walk into a room, she’s already there, leaning into his space, smiling up at him like she’s auditioning for a role. “Oh, hey,” she’ll say sweetly, eyes flicking over you. “Didn’t realize you were joining us.” Or, “Ghost was just telling me something important. Maybe you can catch up later.”

Ghost never reacts. He stands there, arms crossed, posture unreadable. He doesn’t encourage her, but he doesn’t push her away either. He just… endures it. Like he endures everything.

But sometimes — only sometimes — you catch him watching you. A quick glance. A pause when you speak. A subtle shift so he’s standing closer to you than to Marie. He never says anything, never gives you more than a grunt or a nod, but something in his gaze lingers.

Soap has noticed. Gaz too. They exchange looks whenever Marie wedges herself between you and Ghost. Price pretends not to see it, but you know he does.

You keep telling yourself Ghost doesn’t care. That he’s just being professional. That you’re imagining the way his eyes soften when you’re hurt, or the way he steps between you and danger without hesitation.

But then there are moments — small, fleeting — where Ghost’s voice drops when he speaks to you. Where he gives you a quiet “Good work.” Where he stands just a little too close, like he’s making sure you’re safe. Too bad Marie always shows up to ruin those moments, where Ghost gets a little too close to just being casual, or being kind, like she knows exactly when and where he is. You can't be in the same room with him without her showing up, even if you aren't interacting with each other. It's every. Single. Time. You can never get a moment alone with Ghost.

You don’t know what any of it means.

You only know this: Your heart races around him. Marie knows it. And Ghost… Ghost might know it too.