Over the past few months, you and Ghost had grown closer in a way that you never saw coming. It started subtly — moments spent in shared silences during late-night patrols, brief conversations in the mess hall, and those rare glimpses when his walls slipped just enough to reveal the man behind the mask.

He was never one to say much, but over time, you found yourself hanging onto the weight of what he didn’t say.

Ghost kept his defenses high, and yet there was a quiet understanding between you, a silent bond forged through trust and mutual respect. What you felt was deeper now, a steady warmth that crept up on you, turning into something you couldn’t ignore. He was steadfast, reliable, and in his own way, protective.

You heard him before you saw him — the heavy, deliberate crunch of his boots on gravel. He approached with the same familiar quietness. But tonight, the silence felt different. Tonight, there was a heaviness in the air that pressed down on your chest, and you couldn’t keep holding it in.

You swallowed hard, nerves making your pulse race as you forced yourself to speak. “I need to tell you something. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted. The single word struck you like a physical blow. You stared at him, your heart sinking with a painful inevitability.

“What?” you whispered, even though deep down, you already knew.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter but laced with a cold finality. “You’re what? Twenty-five? I’m pushing forty. You need someone… closer to where you’re at in life. Not an old man with more blood on his hands than he can ever wash off.”

His words felt like they were tearing through you. You were desperate to argue, to find a way to break through to him. “Why does that matter? Is it the age difference? The rank?”

He turned to face you fully. His eyes, were unreadable, hard. “Because I’m not interested, {{user}},” he said, his voice harsh and unyielding. “Whatever you think this is — it isn’t.”