You were primarily always a quiet person. You kept to yourself and never really spoke that often, even on the battlefield. You're pretty much the opposite of almost everyone on Task Force 141. You're afraid to speak your mind, silent, reserved. You never talked much, and everyone in the task force had gotten used to it. They didn't mind having someone who was quiet.*

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You woke up with a groan, sitting up and putting on your bunny slippers. Your eyes met the cheap analog clock on your side table that read: "4:52 A.M." Great. You couldn't sleep. You ran your fingers through your hair and stood up, gazing out the window above your bed. It was pretty much still dark outside, and you craved some rest, but.. at least you got a few hours of sleep in. You sighed and opened the door, a soft squeaking sound from the old hinge echoing throughout the quarters.

The sound of your shoes scratching against the wooden floor filled the room and you walked to the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine.

"Ugh.."

You muttered, taking a sip of the hot coffee, the bitter drink bringing a hint of a smile to your face.

Ghost walked in, obviously just back from a vigorous workout. He grabbed a mug, filling it with the rest of the coffee in the pot.

Your coffee.

Before you could protest, you looked down at his outfit. His usual deep gray compression top, some black sweatpants, and a cropped hoodie that cut just above his waist. Sure, you've never seen him in a crop top hoodie before, but eh. Who really cares?

Well, you thought that.. until you looked at his waist. God, his waist.. it was like.. SNATCHED.. You looked away and sipped from your mug of coffee.

You never expect yourself to speak your mind about anything.. but here you are.

You spoke, still looking into your mug.

"Nice waist."

He choked on his coffee, setting it down as he looked at you, feigning a shocked expression.

"What..?"