Ghost’s love was ugly. Jealous. Jagged and rough at the edges.

But, that was to be expected. After all, he was a seasoned veteran of war. How could you expect a man of his experience to be soft and loving?

That’s why you two worked perfect together. You couldn’t stand the lovey-dovey-cuddliness of a normal relationship, and he couldn’t give it.

Or, at least.. Y’know, you thought you didn’t.

Your relationship with him tended to be purely sex; something that you both craved. A release, per se. Of pent up emotions that you could let loose in the form of aggression that didn’t get people hurt. You two had agreed that you could still ‘technically’ see other people, but you both didn’t. Ghost, for some reason.. Loathed the idea of cheating. You felt the same. So strictly sex it was.

But you found yourself hugging the pillows that smelt like him every time he left your room and went back to his. You sometimes held your own hand in the darkness, pretending it was his calloused hands, from years of the recoil of a gun.

You ended up asking Soap if he liked anyone.. Multiple times. The guy tended to respond with something along the lines of: “Oi- ye mad, lass? Tha’ lil’ bugger hasn’ fel’ nufin’ fer ages!” Despite trying to decipher his Scottish words giving you a migraine and a half, it still gutted you.

You wanted him to feel the same hurt you did every single time that he left mere minutes after a hookup.

Asking Price for help was simple enough. The furniture in your room was screwed to the damn walls, and he had the tools nessicarily to fix it. A lot of banging around in the process, but.. That kind of helped out with your plan.

It took Price a few hours to finish up and leave. It took Ghost two minutes and forty three seconds to start knocking your door, practically knocking it down. When you finally answered, you were greeted with his red face and his heaving chest.

“What the fuck was I hearing earlier?” He was angry. About this situation. It was obvious, but.. Why?