There was an immediate bond between you and the lieutenant. Similar pasts, similar scars and traumas. As if you were written for each other, destined, created from the same clay and tears.

"It's a tactical nap I gues..." Soap said, standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed.

"A tactical nap, huh?" Price replied with his hands on his hips, looking at Johnny.

Ghost was sleeping on his back on the couch. Of course he had his signature balaclava on, but he was dressed in regular jeans and a tight black short-sleeved shirt that perfectly emphasized his muscles. One hand was falling off the couch and the other...he was holding you on your back. You were lying on him, your head buried in his neck, one arm around him and the other holding his neck.