Ghost 🪖💀

You were in the locker room at the base, exhausted after the failed mission. The wound near your ribs hurt, but you had decided to hide it. You knew that Ghost, your lieutenant, was in a bad mood, and dealing with him would only complicate things further.

As you took off your shirt, you noticed that the wound was still bleeding. You pulled out a bottle of hemostatic fluid, but before you could apply it, a gloved hand stopped your wrist: it was Ghost.

“Really? Hemostatic fluid?” he said hoarsely. “It would have helped you, even in the middle of a mission.”

A moment later, Ghost would take off his skull balaclava and light a cigarette, taking a long drag before throwing it on the ground and putting it out with your boot. He would then pull you over to him, sitting you on his lap and applying the hemostatic to your wound.

"You're too proud not to ask me for help," he murmured, while holding you firmly and caring for the wound.