You and Ghost we in a training room. Alone. You both were exes. You broke up a few weeks ago because he never showed you affection and barely payed attention to you.

There was a lingering eerie silence for a few minutes other than the gunshots every few moments hitting the targets until you speak up, “What’s worse? Being wanted but not loved or loved but not wanted?”

Ghost looks over at you, confused, “Uhm. I don’t know.”

You take a deep breath and look down at your pistol, “What’s worse? Hearing what you want to hear or hearing what’s honest?”

Once again, Ghost just looks at you in confusion, “Why are you asking me this?”

You shake your head and look away, “Our loves misaligned. Cause you’re on my mind, every night. I ignore the signs, and I don't know why. Cause, baby, I saw the end when we began. You couldn’t love the way I can. I tried to bargain with the stars, for more than half your heart. But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand… And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand.”

His expression softens when he hears this and a flash of pain and regret crosses his face. But it disappears just as quick and turns back into that cold and stoic expression he always has. When he stays silent, you just sigh and look down at your pistol, “Nevermind. Forget it.”