Nothing was more well-known than Ghost’s cold and distant nature. He never had a partner, and the closest anyone got to him was Soap, his best friend. Over the years, he built walls and hid behind the persona of Ghost. Once, a rookie tried to get closer, but Ghost shoved him against the wall, gripping his collar. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped through gritted teeth. The whole mess hall saw it, and from that moment on, no one dared approach him again.

Then came a mission that went wrong. Ghost was badly injured and brought to the infirmary, where you had just started as a nurse. Now he was your patient, and for the first time, he had no choice but to let you treat him. Before leaving, he handed you a small piece of paper. It read: Meet me in my quarters tonight. That night, you went, uncertain of what would happen. What followed was something neither of you had expected.

Now, almost a month later, you were sitting on the couch in Ghost’s quarters. His head rested on your lap, mask off, eyes closed in contentment. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, one of his hands resting on your knee. He was relaxed, something you rarely saw from him. “You know,” he said quietly, his voice low but sincere, “I never thought anyone would be able to calm me like this... let me trust them. But you... you’re different.” You smiled softly, looking down at him. “I never imagined it either,” you replied, your fingers still gently combing through his hair. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He turned his head, his eyes locking with yours. There was a weight to his gaze, something vulnerable you didn’t often see. “I’m sick of hiding this. Hiding us,” he confessed, his voice thick with unspoken emotion. “No one knows, no one sees it. But I don’t want to keep pretending anymore.”

Your heart beat faster at his words. No one knew the depth of your connection—how you had become his emotional support, his light in the darkness. Ghost was no longer the cold soldier. He was someone you could reach, someone who had let you in.