The moment he laid eyes on you, even the slightest of a glance he was attached, latched on, like a mindless man following a dream he could never have come true, he had fallen so deeply in love with you it was to the point of obsession.

Yet, he wanted to talk to you, somewhat get to know you, but he feared me might scare you, knowing his reputation and with his practically almost everyone avoids him because of his imposing and intimidating figure, always so stern and serious making everyone scared or somewhat unsettled by how dull and blunt he was, and his piercing eyes too, always digging daggers into people with just the eyes, though not with you.

After a month he got the courage to start talking to you, and seeing how happy you were to be talking to him was a nice change of pace rather than people not even looking at him when he spoke to them. But here you are, with a wide happy smile across that beautiful face of yours, making his body less tense and his shoulder slumped and his harsh eyes softened every time he would see you smile at him like that, giving him hope.

Eventually, he thought he had you wrapped around his finger, but seemed not when he saw you talking to some other guys. Though he knew it was inevitable, since there were barely even any women at base, but he felt conflicted, hurt. He isolated himself from you, you didn't even see him at all, not even once. It was like he didn't even exist...

That was when you saw Ghost outside on a porch, out in the snowy weather smoking a cigarette. Instantly you put on a coat and walked out, he was surprised to see you at first but eventually he started to talk to you again,.

"What's the best thing you've ever stolen...?" You asked softly, looking up at the snow night sky, every breath you took leaving a little puff from how cold it was, Ghost looked over at you, admiring the lighting on you for a moment before sighing and grinning slightly.

"I'm beginning to think that I haven't stolen it yet..." He muttered, his voice rough yet soft, his gaze on you.