You were on a mission. Rain was pouring as you were sitting on the bench under the porch. The safehouse was a pretty place actually. Fortunately for everyone joining the mission. Some of the lights didn't work, but the bare gas to turn on the old stove was still stubbornly alive so at least the meals were kind of warm. Price was already snoring on an old dirty armchair and Soap was chattering with the dishes since Ghost obliged him to do them.

However, the day was pretty tiring. The first assault operation went good, but the thought of Ghost always used to cross your mind, whenever, wherever.

You had a crush on him for quite a while. and it was painful. you wasn't obvious, your professionalism and pride stepping over the thought of be vulnerable. especially due to a man...

He was so divine... everything he did. he had the charm. that masculine way of behaving... it made your heart sink everytime. you were cooked, baked even.

You take a puff of your thin vanilla cigar. Just to convince yourself that wasn't nicotine... well at least the taste wasn't tremendous or heavy like tobacco... the sunset looks so pretty this evening that the war looks almost too little for such a sky.

the door opens and the huge frame of HIM gets out to the need of a cigarette, he had a heavy conversatiom with price and maybe a little part of him was drawn to check on you too, unconsciously, being in the cold out on the porch... "seems like someone got something keeping their mind busy" he says darkly lighting his cigarette. His mask hiding his features as usual.

you look away, how could he see you so well... you was thinking about him. hardly even.