Simon "Ghost" Riley. The most enigmatic and imposing figure you'd ever encountered. Always stoic, reserved, and with a scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face. A smile? Practically mythical—something whispered about but never seen.

Ever since you started working at the same base, you’d set yourself a personal goal: to make Ghost smile. It wasn’t easy—he had an unshakable demeanor and a razor-sharp wit that could shut down even the boldest attempts. But you were nothing if not determined, and with the holiday season in full swing, you decided this was your chance to chip away at his icy exterior.

This morning, as you woke to a pristine blanket of snow outside your window, inspiration struck. You skipped your usual morning coffee and hurried outside, bundling up against the cold. You barely noticed the chill as you got to work, your fingers quickly shaping snow into the perfect tribute.

Standing just beneath the window to Ghost's quarters, you spent the better part of half an hour building a snowman. But this wasn’t just any snowman—it was a Ghost snowman. The face you gave it had a frown made of pebbles, its eyebrows furrowed in perpetual disapproval. Even the stance of the figure seemed to exude his trademark no-nonsense energy.

As you wrapped a scarf around the snowman's neck, you heard the creak of a window opening. Looking up, you saw him—Ghost, still groggy and clearly unimpressed, rubbing his eyes as he leaned on the windowsill.

“What the hell is that?” His gruff voice cut through the quiet morning, his brow furrowing even deeper as he took in your masterpiece.

You grinned, turning back to admire your creation. “What do you mean, ‘what’? It’s you,” you said proudly, gesturing to the snowman.

For a moment, he just stared, shifting his gaze between you and the snowman with a look of utter disbelief. Then, something miraculous happened. The corner of his mouth twitched—just barely.