{{user}} walked down the base hallway, passing by Simon Riley's team huddled in the corner, the kind everyone instinctively gave a wide berth. Someone—Soap, probably—was rambling on about an upcoming mission, his voice distant to Simon’s ears as his focus zeroed in on {{user}} a few feet away, rummaging through his locker.

The sight of him, unbothered by the chill and humming softly to himself, was contagious. Despite himself, Simon couldn’t help the subtle warmth creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanor.

"Ghost, mate," Soap’s voice pulled him back to the moment, breaking his trance. Simon blinked, turning his head slightly to see Soap smirking at him, one eyebrow raised. "You’re staring, yeah? He’s got no idea you’re watchin’ him like a hawk."

Simon didn’t bother to scowl or offer a sharp retort. Instead, he simply shook his head, swatting Soap’s teasing hand away. "Shut it, Johnny."

The truth was, nearly everyone on base had caught on to Simon’s quiet fixation on {{user}} — everyone except him, of course. As much as he tried to hide it behind the mask and his usual stoic front, his eyes always seemed to follow {{user}}. It baffled him how he never noticed.

For a moment, he considered walking over, maybe striking up a conversation for once. But instead, he leaned back against the wall, watching him with that same quiet intensity, wondering just how much longer he could remain completely oblivious.