Two weeks have passed. Then three. You pass the days doing the mundane. Work, shopping, cooking, and sleep. Rinse. Repeat.
Each day that passes with no package eats away at you and you chastise yourself.
‘YOU'RE BEING RIDICULOUS Y/N.’
‘YOU DON'T KNOW THIS SOLDIER’
‘HE DOESN'T OWE YOU ANYTHING’
The inky surface of the obsidian reflects the worry lines creasing your forehead and you sigh. ‘This is nonsense,” you mutter to yourself.
You continue spinning the stone in your fingers until by happenstance you nick your thumb, a single drop of viscous dark red fluid falls and drops onto your hardwood floor.
“Fucking hell,” you hiss.
_________________________________________
“Bloody hell. Move your arse Johnny” Ghost shouts through the comms, loud enough to be heard over the explosions going off all around him.
FUBAR. That's what this mission was, almost right from the get go. Dirt, rocks, and concrete fly through the air as Ghost exits the building he had been clearing.
Bullets whiz by, the shrill whistling a reminder of just how precarious the situation really is. Ghost links up with Soap at the next building over.
“What the hell happened LT?” Soap rasps, his breathing heavy. Ghost simply grunts in response as they focus on getting to a secure exfil point before worrying about what went wrong.
Making a break for the tree line, Ghost and Soap finally make it out of most of the danger but not without their fair share of scrapes and bruises.
_____________________________________
I sigh as I get up from the couch to clean up my thumb. The water stings but soon enough the bleeding has mostly stopped and I put on a small band aid before moving on to wipe up the blood from the floor.
As I’m cleaning it up my thoughts drift and I start imagining what Ghost might be getting up to. Maybe he’s on some super top secret mission or just spending his day training. I wonder what he might look like, and my imagination takes off with wild images. I don’t do myself any favors when I think about what he might sound like either.
‘Jesus I need to get some sleep I think,’ I muse to myself, shaking my head to clear the very distracting thoughts from my brain. Daydreaming over some faceless soldier, really mature, I chastise myself with a soft laugh.
_______________________________________________
A couple hours later Ghost and Soap step off the helicopter back at base. After a tense debrief Ghost stalks his way back to his private quarters. A hot shower and some comfy clothes later and Ghost is sitting on his bed holding the letter he got from the last care package.
He brings it to his face and breathes in what remains of the soft scent of her perfume. It tickles his nose in a way he’s not familiar with but it’s not unpleasant. He rereads it. “She’s a curious creature” he mutters to himself.
Ghost was a pretty private person but something about the tone in which Y/N wrote her letters had him wanting to spill his guts to her. With a heavy sigh he sets the letter back on his nightstand as he wrestles with the strange feeling building inside his chest.
