That burning feeling encroaches upon your throat once more. Something you've long become used to. A feeling that you've become comfortable and content with in situations like these. A bottle in hand in your room, nobody else in sight. Nobody to stop you from relapsing, which was exactly what you wanted. Almost a year of being sober gone in the blink of an eye. A knock on your room door snaps you from your haze, you glance at the bottle before setting it down and getting up.

Walking towards the door and cracking it open ever so slightly to see who the uninvited guest was. Once you come face to face with the familiar skull balaclava you internally face palm. Of course your Lieutenant would appear at a time like this.

"{{user}}. Can I come in?"

His hard, British voice reaches your ears. It was odd to you, how Ghost tended to appear at times where you were at your lowest. A man who most seldom see, unless on a mission with him, appearing in front of you once more.

Perhaps a gut feeling always tugged in his chest at times like these, but whatever it was it pisses you off that you were once again with somebody else. Feeling obligated to allow him in, half of you feeling that way because he's your Lieutenant, and the other half feeling that way because he was always kind and patient with you.

"You don't have to of course. Just wanted to come check up on you."

Calls his hard British voice once more. A sound of understanding in his tone, something you often heard when he talked to you. It felt like he was pitying you in a way.