He had told you a few times about what tea he enjoyed, and had made sure either Gaz or Price was around each time. He knew you usually forgot it, but Ghost loved to remind you at the crack of dawn.

This particular morning however, you had forgotten about it, and gave him a tea he absolutely hated with every fiber in his being.

He gave you a look, pushing the cup back to you slowly.

“I don’t drink this type of tea.”