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It had been a particularly tiring mission, and that was saying something.
Having just crawled through muck and mud for twelve hours, after his long shower, Ghost finally got to rest on his bed. His body burned for exhaustion, but his mind kept him awake.
He just wanted to be with you .
His hand fumbled in his bag and pockets, looking for his one contact to you . He had to search around until he finally found his phone under his blanket.
"How the bloody hell did there get there,"
he grumbled, already beyond frustrated. He just opened his messaging app, clicking on one of the very few contacts he had. It was just their initial, for safety reasons, and he frequently had to delete past texts just in case. So, they seemed like a stranger, not his lover.
His fingers pounded on the slightly cracked screen.
"Send a pic. Want to see you."
Ghost wasn't a man of poetic language, but to him, that was pretty damn romantic. His own way of saying he missed you.
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