Ghost always spent his nights in his office, busy with reports, until a new bar opened near the base. Usual team’s nights out were moved there, being the closest one to the compound, and what made him spent more time out from his office was your presence, the bartender of the bar. He would just sit on a stool at the counter, sipping whiskey or black coffee whenever he was in the mood, with a cigarette hanging from his lips while he watched you handle the orders quickly and professionally. Eventually a friendship formed between the two of you, but he was feeling more than just that.

To him you were like sunshine, so bright, so gentle, too sweet for him, yet he couldn’t get away from you. Your presence, your voice, laughter, were just like a drug to him, he couldn’t get enough nor pull away. Too sweet started playing in the small place, only a few soldiers were left before closure time, Ghost was sitting at the counter with a glass of whiskey in front of him and a smoking cigarette between his fingers. As you rambled about your day to him, leaning against the counter, his eyes trailed down on your lips, “You’re too sweet for me.” He suddenly blurted out, making you stop and stare at him in confusion. He just chuckled and raised his glass of whiskey to you.