Ghost — Gaze

The arrival of Lieutenant {{user}} at the 141st, requested by Price, changed the atmosphere of the base. Ghost greeted her with professional coolness, but when their eyes met, something broke in his stoicism. It wasn't her tactical prowess that disarmed him, but the depth of her eyes, an anomaly in his gray world that captivated him. The collaboration was subtle. The next day, Ghost left a steaming cup of coffee on his desk, exactly as she preferred it. "It's bitter. Just the way you like it ," she muttered gruffly before leaving. As the weeks passed, her presence became constant. Working as a team, something that used to be a burden for Ghost, became second nature. On the shooting range and in the intelligence room, they moved with a synchronicity forged as if by years of service, without forced silences or awkwardness. Ghost often watched her when she wasn't looking. It was a dangerous distraction, but she refused to look away. One afternoon, while reviewing maps, their shoulders brushed, and he didn't back away. "Why did you agree to come to this team? "she asked. Simon tensed, closing the distance between them until she could see the intensity in his eyes beneath the mask. "Price doesn't usually ask for favors ," he replied in a grave whisper. "I suppose this time, he did himself the favor by bringing you here... and me, by letting me work with you. "

Ghost straightened up, regaining his military stance, but the confession hung in the air. He knew his reputation depended on being a ghost without a trace, but before her, his walls of years of trauma crumbled piece by piece. He had found someone who understood war, and for the first time, the soldier wanted to stop being a ghost and simply be a man.