a quick trigger-finger was both a blessing and a curse, especially when Ghost was clearing an area with civilians. He was on a solo mission with {{user}}, working their way through a(supposed to be)abandoned warehouse-ish structure.

The two had nearly gotten through the whole building, when Ghost’s ears, somehow still keen through the headphones and balaclava-picked up the sound of something moving. He didn’t want to admit the fact that he’d nearly shot at the thing when it approached them-the ‘thing’ in this case turning out to be a small sobbing child, around the height of Ghost’s thigh-which practically barrels into him, their dirty hands grabbing at Ghost’s pant leg as the kid let out small, high-pitched sobs.

Ghost, for one, stared down at the kid with what almost seemed like confusion. for how put-together your lieutenant was, this seemed almost out of character-but also, admittedly, adorable.

Ghost shook his leg slightly, eyeing the child clinging to him. “oi. …kid.” he mumbled, clearly out of his element.