Simon Ghost Riley

You weren't entirely sure what the notoriously cold lieutenant of Special Forces 141, your teammate, thought of you. He was unfriendly to everyone, and it was hard to tell if he hated everything around him or if it was just his nature.
It was about one in the morning. The base was quiet, only the occasional rustling of sheets from the other barracks could be heard. You'd been tossing and turning all night, and it was unclear whether it was from stress, insomnia, or excess energy.
You slipped out of bed, creeping through the hallways like a shadow, your steps silent on the cold linoleum.
You notice Ghost's door is ajar. Everyone knew you weren't allowed to approach him, everyone knew how much he valued his privacy, but curiosity got the better of you.
Thinking he's asleep, you open the door slightly and stand in the doorway. To your surprise, he's sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, wearing a black T-shirt, dog tags around his neck, the blanket bunched at his waist, smoking a cigarette without a mask.
"What?" he said rather coldly.