Ghost never thought he'd fall. He's always been a stone-cold man, never subjecting to the effects of love or affection. Until you came around.

You don't show your face, wearing a mask like he does, but he doesn't need to see your face. It's your eyes. Those goddamn eyes make him fold every time he glances at them. He can never look away.

As you sit across from him in the van, eyelids droopy and tired after a long mission, you can't help but notice how intently Ghost is staring at you, gazing into your eyes.