Cold, soil brown eyes scanned the meeting room, an impatient sigh leaving the pale man’s lips. Warm breath sinking into the raggedy fabric of the dark balaclava. It was obvious by the drumming of his fingertips on denim, he disliked events like this. Military sponsors- like they didn’t have enough money. A sponsor specifically for Captain John Price’s task force after a rather successful operation that had gained publicity. Lieutenant Ghost’s balaclava in the spotlight.

Much like his brothers in arms, Simon was not familiar with the concept of freely spending money. He was never ‘comfortable’ as some liked to say, despite the military pay grade. In fact, he was more than fine with that. Didn’t have the time to spend money like that anyway.

And yet, when the face of that sponsor, that supposedly disgusted him, walked in- he felt a little shift. Small, almost enough so he didn’t even catch it. What a bloody handsome wanker, he nearly would’ve thought it was plastic surgery. Selective hearing deafening the words the man spoke, the Lieutenant could only focus on his appearance. Clean, fresh, as handsome as a model. The type of handsome to lure you into buying some terrible jeans just because they looked good on him. It was a dumb thought, he knew.

And then, your eyes were on him. Mentioned how you were there for him, how you’d seen his heroic acts. Heroic his ass. Snapped him out of his idiotic brain freeze, and he acted like nothing happened. Price spoke, but all he caught was that you were the CEO of some prestigious, exclusively wealthy business. As he extended a hand, dark eyes straining as they trained onto your own, his cracked lips parted under the mask to speak. Unnoticeably huskier than usual, which he cursed internally at you for.

“Apologies, I don’t think I caught your name earlier.”