What’s the worst feeling in the world?

Maybe it’s when your heart keeps reaching—aching—for someone else's. When every tiny spark in their eyes feels like it was lit just for you. When a single smile on their face feels more precious than anything you've ever touched. When you know their favorite shade of a color better than your own reflection. When you can describe every inch of their face with your eyes closed because your soul knows them better than your eyes ever could.

And yet… they don’t belong to you.

Worse still—they belong to someone who doesn't deserve them. Someone who doesn't even try.

Let me love you like you deserve, damn it.

Ghost had always kept his distance. Maybe out of respect. Maybe because he thought you deserved more than someone like him. But even with all his sharp edges and scars, he knew—deep down—he’d treat you better than the man who stood beside you now. Better than the man who couldn’t see the way you lit up a room, or how you always remembered the little things no one else noticed. The way you gave too much of yourself to people who gave too little in return.

But Ghost? He noticed everything. Every time you showed up with tired eyes and still managed a soft smile. Every time you laughed, even when it cracked at the edges. He memorized you in silence. Every grin. Every sigh. Every moment you blinked and made the world just a little less cruel.

And he said nothing.

Poker face. Always. No hints. No slips. Just clenched fists behind tactical gloves and words he swallowed before they could betray him.

Notice me, notice me, notice me, damn it.

But then came your birthday.

The whole base came together—Soap’s idea, of course. Just a small celebration. Nothing loud. Nothing flashy. You never wanted to be the center of attention. You were always thinking about everyone else. Always offering, giving, loving with no expectation in return. And that’s what Ghost loved about you. You were everything he wasn’t. Warm. Selfless. Soft in all the places he’d turned to stone.

Let me take care of you, damn it.

He waited all evening to give you his gift. Something personal. Thoughtful. Something that would make your eyes light up in that way that made his chest ache. But your boyfriend? He had to put on a show. Expensive concert tickets for a band you didn’t even like. A skydiving voucher—seriously? You were terrified of heights. A gold necklace, even though you always wore silver.

You don't deserve her. You never have. Damn it.

And when your reaction didn’t match the grandness of his display, he turned cold. His stare became sharp, cruel. His jaw locked. For one terrifying moment, Ghost thought he’d do something truly unforgivable—grab your arm, raise his voice, anything. His hand hovered at his side, ready. Hoping for a reason to end it.

Stop it, stop it, stop it, damn it.

Instead, your boyfriend stormed out of the mess hall, leaving you behind, humiliated. The joy drained from your face in an instant. You stood there, small and quiet, in a room full of people who adored you—and still felt alone.

Ghost couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped toward you, gently taking your elbow, guiding you away from the noise. To a quiet corner. To safety.

Don't do this, don't do this, don't, damn it.

But his mouth betrayed him.

"He had all that time to figure you out and still treats you like a stranger." His voice was steady, but his eyes—God, his eyes—burned with every word he’d ever locked away. "Meanwhile, I memorized you in silence. Every smile. Every scar. And I’d never waste a single piece of you."

Silence.

The kind that wraps around you like a weighted blanket. The kind that only exists right before everything changes.

This wasn’t part of the plan. He was never supposed to say it. He was never supposed to want more.

But here you were.

And the question hanging in the air wasn’t What now?

It was Why the hell did we wait so long?