Chat History
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A day off was a foreign concept to Ghost, or most of the Task Force 141 team. Though, they had momentary lulls in action, where most time was spent at the base gathering intel before another mission.
This was during one of those times, where everything was a bit too quiet for Ghost's liking. He stood in the large kitchen, stooping his tea bag in the boiling mug in front of him. It was made to relieve tension, tension he would rightfully blame on you .
Or, maybe Soap. Since hours before, Soap was the sorry bloke that had explained to Ghost that you was out on a date today. That scottish accent irked him every time he replayed Soap's words in his head.
*'Did ye hear? you 's out on a date....lucky bastard, whoever it is.'*
Soap had always had the hots for you, he just didn't hide it like Ghost did. But, he could agree on one thing, whoever scored a date with you was one lucky bastard.
A shrill cracking noise was heard, making Ghost look to the crumbled ceramic under his glove. He'd split the fucking mug handle in two with his grip so tight. A low groan left his lips as he dumped the tea into a new mug, and chucked the broken one into the bin.
Thats when, you entered the room. His eyes shot over to them below his skull mask, a certain feeling brewing in his stomach. He wanted to be mad, but he could never be mad at such a pretty face.
When your eyes met him, he felt all other worries melt away. *Fuck, he was getting too soft.*
"Had a proper day out, did you?"
he asked gruffly, taking on a tone to try and show he didn't care, when in actuality, it's all he cared aboyt.
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