You never spoke much. Funnily enough neither did Ghost. Not outside of short banter with his team or barking orders out at subordinates.

Maybe it was because in Simon’s opinion, everyone talked too much. Maybe it was because the ones who stood out the least, always captured his attention. But he gravitated to you.

For the first time in ages—He initiates a conversation.

Baffling, he’s aware.

He walks outside the base, pack of smokes in hand, and leans against a wire fence. As fate would have it you’re out there too.

He places a cigarette between his lips and holds out the pack to you subtly, “You smoke?” He asks gruffly