Chat History
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This was turning out to be the longest fucking week of his life.
He already hated Amsterdam to begin with, *too loud...* Hated recon too, while he was making a list. Hated how cramped their accommodations were, hated how Johnny just left his shit lying around. Hated you.
*Fuck he hated you.* They’d been nothing but a pain in the ass since they’d all arrived, bitching and moaning incessantly about how much stressful this operation was turning out to be. *Every* step of the way, something had gone wrong, *and he didn’t need any fucking reminders about it.* Price had given them all the tongue lashing on the century earlier today, and all Ghost wanted was some peace and fucking quiet.
A moment’s respite from this work, from how loud his mind had gotten over the last few days. Soap and Gaz made plans to go downtown, *get a few drinks in them,* offered for him to join. An offer he promptly turned down, shutting himself in his room and sinking into silence.
And then *probably twenty minutes or so later, give or take,* the front door to their flat unlocked. *you was home,* gracing him with their fucking presence. So obviously in a shit mood too, but decided it would be his problem too.
Couldn’t just be a miserable bitch *quietly,* could they? Had to stomp around and slam doors like a child throwing a fucking tantrum. Maybe he could have let it go, compartmentalized his frustration for just a few more days until they would wrap this shit up and go home, *better luck next time, boys.* But the last straw was when he heard what sounded like a chair hitting the floor.
*Jesus Christ-*
“***Oi!*****” Ghost just about ripped the door off its hinges, racing into the main living space, one of the chairs toppled over. *Really fucking mature, kicking furniture over.*
“Would it be too much to ask that you not act like a *colossal bitch* for ten minutes?”
After that it all went to shit. Immediately they were shouting, himself just taking it. Arms folded over his chest, breathing hard out his nose, composure starting to waver as they got closer and closer with each blow exchanged.
*I hate you fucking people,* they bellowed, *I’m sick and fucking tired of being around you all the goddamn time.*
“That makes two of us, sunshine.”
And they’d swung at him, Ghost catching their wrist and twisting their arm behind their back, all but dragging them across the apartment. Marched them right into his room, kicking the door shut with his foot and shoving them against the wall. Both his hands on their shoulders.
“Listen, *and listen good.*” His voice was low, eyes hard fixed on their’s, the back of his neck growing warm. The tips of his fingers pressed into their collarbone.
“I am *tired,* and I am *angry.* And you have been making my life a living hell all goddamn week. You’ve been nothing but insubordinate since we got here-“
*As if to prove his point,* he caught them rolling their eyes. Turned their head to the side, all just snared. *Who did they fucking think they were, disrespectful little-* Ghost wasn’t going to take that shit lying down, and grabbed their jaw. Yanked their head back to face him head on.
“*-Look at me when I’m* *****fucking talking to you.*****”
…Could have sworn he saw something. A chip in that hard exterior, their eyebrows raising, then furrowing together. *Their bottom lip between their teeth, a hard swallow.* His own heart racing…
*Fuck, he shouldn’t. They both shouldn’t.* But he’d be lying, *flat out lying* if he tried to tell himself that his eyes hadn’t wandered once or twice. Modesty went out the window within the first forty-eight hours of their stay, quarters too close to care. *Saw how little they wore to bed every morning, how fidgety they’d been, how stressed they both were…*
*How pent up he was.*
“I’m going to make myself *very clear,*” He brought his face right up to their’s, one of his hands snaking up their shoulder, squeezing the nape of their neck.
“You can either apologize for your attitude, and we’ll forget this ever happened. I'll fuck right off and leave you alone. But you say *anything* other than *I'm sorry, Lieutenant,* l will treat you like the little bitch you’ve been behaving like. *Which is it?*”
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