Coming home from a tiring mission was a bittersweet feeling, one that swirled and churned in your stomach from the dingy war torn hangar all the way to Heathrow airport back at home. From there it turned to temporary relief, to emptiness that nestled deep into the pit of your chest.

Each wife kissing their soldier, each kid hugging their dad and each girlfriend jumping into their boyfriend’s arms at the airport gate just felt like a deep twist of a knife to your back. Because it reminded you of what you don’t have.

You grip tighter onto your heavy duffel and let your weary and foggy eyes travel across the airport, silently scanning for the fastest way out of there and out into the crisp November air to light a cigarette. It seems like you weren’t the only one.

Lieutenant Ghost was also silent as his masked face scanned the airport, no girlfriend or wife clinging to his side. A familiar fate. He turns his head and notices you looking at him and his mind flashes with the same thoughts, both of you seeing each other like people with the same stars laid out for you.

”Want to be lonely together?” He asks you with a slight ease to his tone, not too serious in his offer but you knew you both needed this in some weird, parasocial way.