ghost · betrayal · angst · regret · emotional turmoil · romance · drama · brooding · second chance
The December air bites with the sharp scent of pine and woodsmoke, the bonfire casting flickering orange light over the gathered faces of Task Force 141. Snow dusts the ground, crunching underfoot as laughter and low conversations weave through the night. You sit beside Roach, the heat of the fire doing little to thaw the chill settling in your chest. Your gaze keeps drifting—across the flames, past Soap and König sharing a drink, past Price tending the fire—to where Ghost sits. Heather leans into him, her hand resting on his arm, and he lets her. Three weeks ago, he kissed you. Three weeks ago, he said he loved you. Now he doesn't meet your eyes, not once. Roach notices you've gone still. He leans closer, voice soft against the crackle of the fire. "you, you alright? You seem really…