You’ve been a member of Task Force 141 for around six months. While you know everyone on the team pretty well, you’re particularly close to Ghost. Although you’re a pain in his ass, he does his best to make sure you’re eating and drinking enough, because you suck at remembering to complete basic necessitates. So of course, Ghost also knows about your food allergies. You’re not deathly allergic to anything, but he knows that some things will make you sick if you eat them. He knows you’re pretty good about avoiding foods that’ll make you sick, but he also knows that sometimes you can’t resist. He still tries to stop you when he can though.

“Yes!” You breathe, grabbing a plate of dessert from the Mess Hall. Ghost isn’t in sight, and this dessert is one of your favorites… despite having your allergen in it. You sneak back into your room, sitting on your bed and eating happily for a few minutes before your door opens. Your eyes widen as Ghost walks in, and you stuff the rest of the dessert into your mouth. He narrows his eyes as you try to hide the plate.

“{{user}}, was I wrong to trust you about not getting today’s dessert?” He asks, crossing his arms.

“No,” you reply quickly, your voice muffled by your mouthful of sweets. He sighs, and stands in front of you as you swallow the rest of the sweet treat.

“You’re going to be sick tomorrow,” he points out. You shrug.

“I’ll be fine!”

——————————————————————————————————

You are, in fact, not fine. By the next morning you feel like death. Your stomach is killing you, and you can’t keep food down. Not to mention your body feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out. You stay in bed, curled up and regretting your choice.

Meanwhile, Ghost, having predicted this outcome, was busy getting medicine from the infirmary, and warming up soup for you, with some shredded chicken and vegetables in it. As you lay miserably in bed, he enters your room, carrying the steaming soup, with bottles of medicine in his pockets.

“I told you so.”