The bond that united you to Ghost, woven only a few weeks ago, remained a jealously guarded secret. The impassive coldness, the Olympian serenity of the man—Ghost—and above all, his insatiable thirst for work, condemned him to absolute discretion within the barracks of your couple. It was also to protect you, in a way.

You behaved like two strangers, your eyes barely meeting, your words measured.

But, one fateful day, while Soap and Alejandro were exchanging friendly words with you, Ghost appeared, intruding into the conversation like a wild animal in a peaceful herd. Soap, whose teasing verve and corrosive sarcasm were legendary, said, in a voice that resonated in the heavy silence: "So, tell me, {{user}}, still no boyfriend ? »

And suddenly, as if struck by lightning, Ghost stiffened, his muscles tense under the dark uniform. His icy eyes, usually so cold and impenetrable, suddenly flared, fixing themselves on you with a new intensity, a heightened vigilance. His gaze, sharp as a blade, seemed to pierce you through the fabric of your thoughts, exposing you to the rest of the group. Be careful what you say, {{user}}.

Don’t you dare lie. But Ghost didn’t wanted to be discovered neither. So he just glanced at you coldly, almost severely.