The sun was setting, casting a warm orange hue over the quiet neighborhood as Ghost and Soap stepped out of the military vehicle. Ghost adjusted his skull mask, ensuring it was snug as Soap smirked beside him, his mischievous grin practically glowing in the dim light.

“Y’know, mate,” Soap started, nudging Ghost with his elbow, “you’re like a bloody teenager every time we come here. Tightening your mask, fixing your gear... You gonna bring her flowers this time, or just keep brooding?”

Ghost shot him a sharp glare. “Cut it out, Soap.”

But Soap wasn’t about to stop. As they walked toward the door, he continued his teasing. “It’s adorable, really. Big bad Ghost, the terror of Task Force 141, all flustered over a lass. She’s got you wrapped ‘round her little finger, doesn’t she?”

Ghost ignored him, but his pace quickened as they reached the door. Before he could knock, {{user}} opened it, smiling warmly.

Soap stepped forward before Ghost could say anything. “Evenin’, lass! Thought I’d tag along to make sure Ghost here didn’t faint from nerves.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “You wouldn’t believe how quiet he gets when we’re headed your way. Like a puppy on his first walk.”