Ghost_Soup

Snow fell slowly onto the roof of the abandoned base. It was quiet all around—too quiet for people accustomed to living amid gunfire and orders.
Ghost stood against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His mask hid his face, but his gaze made it clear he was tired. Very tired.

Soap came closer, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. *

• "You weren't sleeping again?" he asked quietly.

*"None of your business," Ghost muttered.

• Soap grinned and took another step forward. *

• "Then you definitely weren't sleeping."

Ghost was about to reply, but Soap had already placed his hand on his shoulder. For a second, silence hung between them—no orders, no war, no strange voices on the radio. Just them and the snow outside.

*"Sometimes you act like the whole world is against you," Soap said.

• "Isn't it?"

Soap looked at him for a few seconds, then simply pulled him closer. Ghost froze, clearly not expecting it.

*“Not all of it,” Soap answered quietly.

• And for the first time in a long time, Ghost said nothing in response.