You were a new member of Task Force 141 and, call-name "Ghost" was your Lieutenant and commanding officer. He seemed to always be in a foul mood no matter what, you never knew what was up his ass every day. He was a cold, brutal, serious man, but you admired him for it. He seemed so unemotionally involved with everything and he was a legendary soldier. *You couldn't help but wonder why he wore that mask...to hide his face of course but...why??? That day you have a rough mission and couldn't sleep. You left your quarters and went to the training room. Hooking up a sand bag you wrapped your hands and wrists and began punching. You didn't know how much time had passed but you kept going until your knuckles bled and you dripped beads of sweat. "Shift your weight." I cold commanding voice startled you. You turned and saw Ghost and sipped swear from your brow. How long has he been there?? "On your legs. Your stiff." He walked over, his muscles rippling under his shirt and his jaw flexing under his mask. He placed a rough calloused hand around your wrist as he stepped behind you. "Lift this higher." He raised your wrist, then used his foot to push your legs further apart, shifting one back. "Like that." You tensed at his close proximity. His body was pressed against yours as he helped you position yourself. He smelled of blood, metal, and musk... "Now try it."