Call of Duty Oneshots by zoa!

Third of December [P2] - Ghost [N]

A blank stare at the wall, the all consuming, jealous
thump of your heart pushing hot adrenaline through your veins as you listened to the light flirting back and forth across the table.

Her smile and the movement of her lips made your blood boil, how they curled as her and Ghost spoke. The grip your fingers had on the armrests was giving you white knuckles, but the weakness in your heart was loosening them, undoing your rage knot by knot with reassurance.

It was only your eyes drifted away from the dull beige when Price asked everyone to leave, a feeling of what felt like forever. You shifted out your chair and began walking out, only to not feel a punch in your side as you always did. A turn of your head proved why.

Ghost and her - her name being Heather - were still talking, him barely moving out of his chair not in any sense of rush.

Your breath hitched and you could smell the fire coming from your body, the heat being kicked up a notch in your heart and the glow of red from your glossy eyes as you turned solemnly and left them be, slamming the door behind you.

———

Kicking your own feet wasn't fun.

Nor was seeing something funny and having nobody to laugh at it with. Nor was eating alone, nor was training alone.

You had barely seen Ghost all week. It was expected though, of course it was. It was not you and him anymore, now it was him and Heather.

Now they were inseparable. Attached at the hip, the peas in the pod with the discarded single pea.

God, you wish she were dead.

The way he seemed happier with her than he ever did with you made your heart ache in jealousy, it made it crumble like a mirror shattering.

Just like how your fists were now bloodied after punching your own mirror, eyes being flooded with tears and lip quivering in rage and pain after finding out he went on a date with her this very night.

Clutching your hand and watching the glass tumble out of the frame felt like it resembled you. How you were breaking piece by piece and now was the last pound you took before you broke. Your knees fell to the floor and you burst into a heavy sob. Head in your red hands, you let a pool of tears develop in your cupped palms, letting them trickle down your fingers onto the shards on the floor below.

Your throat ached, you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream how you wished you were Heather, how you wished everything was back to normal.

How you wished Ghost would like you again.

You grabbed the ledge of the sink and lifted yourself up, going to see yourself in the mirror but only seeing the leftover shards, seeing your red puffy eyes in one half then your face stained with your own blood on another.

You use a towel to wash your face and you cleanse your hands, wrapping a bandage around your knuckles before grabbing Ghost's sweater he had given you and some tracksuit bottoms to wear, leaving your room and heading for the front door.

The halls were silent, but your mind wasn't. It was filled with every emotion; every stage of grief and rage. How you should just burn his hoodie and run away or how you should plead for him to pay any form of attention to you again.

But as you reached the front door, opening it and hopping up on the roof, dangling your feet off the ledge and resting your weight on your arms, looking up at the twinkling stars above you, you realised it wasn't worth the hassle. Each and every one of them was unique, some being brighter or duller or differently coloured. Yet, they all shone in the same exact way.

It felt like a calling to you.

The front door opened which made you look down to see the Mohawk you didn't expect to see. His eyes trailed up to you, a worried expression on his face turning to a soft relief, his lips curling up. He grunted as he pulled himself up and you shuffled over, him sitting next to you.

"Hey. Looked for ya everywhere, wanted to come see ya." Soap glanced over and so did you, both facing each other. His eyes ran across your puffy eyes and slightly marked face, still having stains of blood on your cheeks, and your still quivering lip. His shoulders dropped as he looked down, seeing the bandages on your knuckles.

He lifted his hand to yours, cupping it in his own and rubbing the bandage with his thumb carefully not to make you wince.

"What's 'appened here?" he asks in a soft voice, drawing his eyes from the bloodied fabric to your gaze.

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"Yeah, and I hate my hair. Both lies, ain't they?"

A soft chuckle came from your lips, him smiling from it. Then, a sigh.

"Got a bit emotional. It's alright though."

He nods, understandingly. He takes a deep breath in and drops your hands on your lap, looking at the stars on the horizon. His hand rises and he points to a star.

"Which one's ya favourite?"

You thought for a moment, scanning the night with your eyes before leaning closer to him, pointing to a star that was the brightest of the lot. It pulsed a bright white with a large glint.

"That one, for sure."

"No way, same 'ere."

You both chuckle, looking up to only see him looking down at you already. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you in closer. His thumb rubbed your arm and his warm embrace lit your heart alight, only not with anger.

With something Ghost never had provided you before.

"I'm sorry about Simon, by the way," he whispered, not wanting to be too loud in case it hurt you. "never took him for the heartbreaker type. I always knew ya fancied 'im."

You hummed in agreement, looking down and leaning your head on Soap, him pulling you in tighter. Your feet began to swing off of the edge of the roof.

"I knew it was coming, it just came a bit too fast. I wish I were Heather..."

A hand cupped under your chin, making you look upward at Soap, his blue eyes reflected more beautifully than any star could. His eyebrows turned upward and he stroked your cheek.

"Heather isn't as fun as you, she isn't as laid back as you nor as funny. She couldn't compare to you if she tried her hardest. You're...perfect."

Your eyes widened slightly, glimmering with hope as his lips curved upwards, slowly leaning in and placing a tender kiss upon yours, naturally making your eyelids flutter shut.

Your heart raced as he lent back, still cupping your chin with a smile spread across both of your faces. Your tears dried and your lip stood stationary, only this time with a soft smile.

Maybe, you had the chance to feel loved again.

Only this time, you knew it wouldn't change.