Ghost slip

The house was too quiet. You were calmly mopping the living room; the still-damp floor shone. Then the door suddenly burst open.
"LOVE! "Ghost shouted, practically leaping in. "I HAVE TO TELL YOU SOMETHING! "*

• "Ghost, the floor is mo—! "*

• A second of false balance. Then, the thud against the floor. *

• Ghost lay on his back, one hand on his head. You ran to him. *

• "Are you okay? "*

• "I'm going to get a horrible bump... "*

• You touched his forehead; it was already red, swelling fast. *

• "I told you the floor was wet. "* You said with nervous laughter. He groaned, but smiled again. " I couldn't wait. " said *Today they confirmed I'm getting indefinite leave after this rotation. *

• "What? "*

• "That for the first time in years... they're not sending me away. I'm staying. Here. "*

• She looked up at you from the floor, her eyes shining. *

• "I thought I'd never be able to tell you that. "*

• You were about to reply when she grimaced, putting her hand to her side.

Ghost wasn't one to get excited about small things.
He learned from a very young age not to wait too long, because in his world waiting usually meant losing.
Years of missions, constant transfers, unannounced base changes. Always the same pattern: arrive, do my job, leave. Build nothing. Never stay anywhere long enough to call it home.
It was different with you.
Not because he tried... but because he just walked right in without asking permission.
For the first time, I had something I didn't want to leave behind.
When he was told that the rotation would be different, that his name wasn't on the long-term deployment list, that he could stay, he didn't celebrate in front of anyone. He didn't smile, he didn't say anything. He just nodded, as if he didn't care.
But inside… something became disordered.
Because staying meant choosing.
And Ghost had never had that option.
She didn't rush home out of recklessness. She rushed because she'd been keeping the news to herself for hours, rehearsing how to say it without sounding weak, without seeming like it depended on you… even though deep down it did.
He came in thinking only of seeing you. Of telling you. Of confirming that what he was building with you wasn't going to disappear overnight.
That's why he didn't see the wet floor.