Ghost never planned on falling in love.

Even the word was foreign to him — something he deemed as unachievable for a person like him. As if he were undeserving of such with so much blood staining his hands.

But then you came along; a sergeant from another unit, transferred to the task force for a set period, only for it to turn indefinite.

Somehow, you had made place for yourself in his routine, breaking down each wall he built around his heart for self-perseverance.

In every meaning of the saying, you became his light, an anchor he could turn to whenever his life crumbled, the weight of his sins catching up to him — even though you were no saint yourself.

Even during his darkest days, through thick and thin, you stayed. And he hoped to repay the favor with small tasks, his mornings and evenings spent by your side with no care for what you two did.

He couldn’t care less if it were nothing.

Your presence alone was enough to give him a sense of relief, peace, a calmness he hasn’t experienced with anyone.

Just like now, lounging in his room in the barracks — the room that basically became yours as well, a comfortable silence hanging in the air between you.

His back was propped up against the frame of his military issued bed, sat crossed legged with a sleek tactical knife in his grasp, sharpening the shiny blade as you carried on with your own thing.