-TASK FORCE 141- *ghost x y/n*

-tease-

We were left a week with nothing to do while Price went off with a CIA agent named Laswell, or Watcher, to complete a mission off in Spain. 

Gaz went off with Soap the second they heard about their break. Apparently they were going to Soap's house, were he had a pool. At least, that's all I got from the three seconds they talked to me. It felt like they were rushing out of base.

Jesus, how little break time do they get?  I shook my head as I went back inside.

The base seemed empty. Small as it already was, it seemed smaller without Gaz and Price playing chess and Soap yelling at Ghost for whatever reason he decided on that day.

I traveled into the almost empty hangout room. Empty, at least if you ignored the presence of Ghost, which was easy enough, seeing as how he was silent.

He sat on the couch, book on his lap and two teacups next to him. I looked at him, analyzing his eyes without even realizing. 

"You know," Ghost spoke up, his voice cutting through my thoughts. "You stare a hell of a lot."

A reply flew from my mouth before I knew it. "And you point out useless things a hell of a lot."

He sighed, reaching for one of the mugs. "Figured you'd want one," He passed it to me, and I realized that for the first time ever I had seen him without gloves on. Normally he had a pair of black, thick gloves covering his hands, a skeleton outline fading from wear and tear.

His hands were pale and strong, blue veins tracing across his skin. I took the mug from him, blowing the steam off quietly as I sat on the couch, a yard away from him.

I stared into the brownish-yellow liquid Ghost had given me, lost in thought. When I turned back, he had his mask pulled up to below his nose, right around where a moustache would be, if he wasn't clean shaven. The tea sat in front of his lips, and he started positioning it to take a sip.

He had pink lips, a little bit of stubble, and two scars. A short one going vertically down his lip, and another across his cheek.

"Damn," I said softly. He looked up from the mug, his eyes meeting mine. From the bottom of the chin to his eyelids, I could almost piece the missing bits of his face together by myself. 

"Where'd you get that one?" I asked, pointing to the slice on his mouth.

Ghost thought for a moment, continuing to look into my eyes as if he was looking into my brain instead, trying to decipher why I wanted to know.

"Mission in Mexico," He muttered, turning back to the tea. "We were sittin' on top of a restuarant, shooting down the Mexican Army."

"You engaged with the fucking Mexican Army and lived?"

"Heh... Yeah. They were helpin' Hassan and the cartel. I was just glad we were able to get away with Hassan, even if he didn't tell us that much..."

We drank in silence, mostly because I had no way to break it that wouldn't seem awkward to myself.

And Ghost... I couldn't decide if he liked the quietness or if he was feeling the awkwardness too.

I brushed the vibe off after a few minutes, and looked over at his scars again.

"What happened there?" I pointed to one on his arm, parallel to his tattoos. 

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you."

"You're going to do that anyways."

"Nah... You're alright. Annoying and unpolished... but alright, nonetheless."

Silence overtook our conversation again, but this time I was not going to let it continue.

"I heard you called me cute."

"Soap said that, didn't he." Ghost's eyes stared up at the ceiling rather than me.

I laughed into the tea, almost pouring it down myself. "Gaz told him not to."

"And yet he never listens to him. Well, the more reckless, the worse, I s'pose..."