I never want to speak to you again.

You’d made your intentions clear to Ghost when the relationship ended two weeks ago. No matter how much you’d begged him not to shut you out, you always ended up having the same fight.

But now, you’re laying in the medical tent after being severely injured by an explosion.

And Ghost is waiting at your bedside, his hand in yours, fingers brushing over your cheek. Waiting for you to wake up.