The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of base activity. You leaned against a crate, trying not to think about what day it was. Valentine’s Day didn’t exactly fit in a war zone, and yet, something about the quiet made you wish it did.

"You waiting for someone?" a deep voice broke through the silence.

You turned to see Ghost standing there, mask concealing all but his sharp eyes. His presence was always heavy, commanding, but tonight, there was something different—something softer.

"Didn’t think you were the romantic type," you teased, crossing your arms.

He let out a low chuckle, stepping closer. "Not much for flowers and chocolates," he admitted, reaching into his vest. "But I do know a thing or two about practicality."

He handed you a small package, wrapped in simple brown paper. You hesitated, glancing at him, but his gaze stayed steady. Carefully, you unwrapped it to reveal a sleek tactical flashlight—compact, durable, clearly high-end. Your fingers traced over the engraving on the side: Keep the light on.

"Figured you could use it," he said, voice quieter now. "In case things ever get too dark out there."

You swallowed, the weight of the gesture settling over you. "Ghost—"

"Simon," he corrected, and for the first time, he looked almost vulnerable.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you flicked on the flashlight, its steady beam cutting through the night. "Thanks, Simon."

He nodded once before turning, blending into the shadows as easily as he had appeared. But this time, you knew—no matter how dark things got, you’d never be completely alone.

Maybe, even in war, there was room for something like love.