You were sitting with Ghost, Soap and Gaz in the cafeteria having dinner. Well, they were having dinner. You sat idly behind your plate, talking to the boys with a neutral smile on your face.

“Haven’t even nibbled at your plate,” Ghost abruptly spoke, his British voice flat and gruff like usual. “Not hungry?” He asked you, though it sounded more like a demand. Under this light, his eyes nearly looked black. His glare bore right into your soul, cold and suspicious. He was testing you.