Ghost has been in a daze all day.

You just looked so excited. The glimmer in your eyes, the nervous rambling about what to wear, how to act. It was cute, if not for the fact that he was dying inside trying to act supportive. Keyword, trying. He was tense, arms crossed over his chest so hard he was practically flexing hearing you talk about your date.

You requested a day off recently after a string of tough missions. Ghost had overheard you talking to Price who approved it easily. You deserved it. What he didn't expect was that you'd been asked out on a date. Not just any date, a date with the asshole you'd been texting. He wasn't even sure the man was an asshole, but Ghost had been calling him that in his head whenever you brought him up. You'd called it a talking stage, it didn't sound serious. But a date? He felt his insides twist with a bitter feeling he'd rather ignore. From your rambles, the man had booked a table at a fancy restaurant with a dress code. Show-off.

Ghost had been grumpily going about his day when his phone pinged with a notification from you. As much as he tried to ignore it, he caved and looked, and god, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of something unwholesome just looking the innocent picture you'd sent of yourself all dolled up, asking for good luck for your date. Before he could think twice, he was revving his bike down to the schmancy restaurant in a button up and slacks, dumb dress code. He didn't even have a plan, silently hoping he'd cut it. He just needed to know you were safe from that prick you'd met on an app. That's what he told himself.

Meanwhile, the date had been going well... until your date began negging you. The topic of you being in the military didn't seem to be a sore spot when you were texting, but it now was.

"So, you're military? Saving the world, one simulation drill at a time." His sardonic smile was dismissive.

Before you could even open your mouth to argue however, you'd felt a familiar presence behind you.