𝓘𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 || 𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 ☽

Part 11. ˚ ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Welcome back, Y/n," Price greeted warmly as I entered the base, his arms outstretched as if he wanted to envelop me in a big, fuzzy hug.

"Thank you, sir," I replied politely, meeting his sweet blue eyes. Upon closer inspection, I realized just how striking they were—a mesmerizing mix of blue and gray. I liked them.

"We all missed you," Price said, walking backward toward the shooting range. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, his back still turned to me as he continued speaking.

"I missed y'all too. I'm perfectly fine now, thanks for asking." I followed him, watching his fingers snap and hearing him hum a little tune, his head bopping and body moving as if he were at a party. Ah, I missed this.

"I'm glad. They're all waiting for you, so get in there, won't you?" Price stopped just outside the door, giving me a cheeky wink. Oh, that bastard.

He smiled gently behind that mustache of his. Price's smile is the most adorable thing ever, don't you agree? It spreads so easily from person to person, making everyone smile just because he is.

"Yes, sir," I said, returning his smile and nodding. I grasped the doorknob and opened it.

The worst part is that I'll have to see Ghost's familiar, scary mask again. Nervous? Of course, I was!

But the first person I saw wasn't Ghost; it was someone even better: Johnny MacTavish, standing by the ammunition stash, leaning and talking to someone beside him.

I haven't seen him in—I don't know—months? He had been on a long mission in Asia.

Johnny was like a big brother to me. He treated me with care, and his humor was the best among everyone here.

My smile brightened like the sun as soon as I saw Johnny, but then I noticed who was standing next to him. Simon Riley.

Oh boy. My smile immediately faded away.

"What's up with ya? Seemed so happy a second ago. Need a hug? I know you missed me," Johnny noticed me. His Scottish accent was clear as he suddenly held his loving arms out for me to run into.

Ah, I missed my little Scottish fella.

Johnny always gave the best hugs: soft and gentle. He also smelled really good—better than many people here, most of whom reek of Axe deodorant, which disgusts me. Johnny has many pleasing qualities.

How could I ever reject a hug from Johnny? I tilted my head to the side and did the "I don't know" gesture with my shoulders. Slowly, I walked toward Johnny, who had his arms wide open, until I pressed my cheek into his warm chest. Ahhh.

His arms wrapped around me, and I wrapped mine around his torso, feeling comforted and at ease. This is what I call a great hug!

I couldn't help but peek at Ghost, seeing him examine all the different guns and weapons we had. There were a lot.

His bare hand swept over the clean, fresh guns, and I couldn't help but watch his veiny hands move passionately over them.

He grabbed a pistol, removed the magazine to check the ammunition, and smoothly moved his fingers across the barrel in a way that seemed almost sensual. Well, at least I enjoyed it.