#{{anyways...}}

Not because you're scared of him, ghost hardly becomes more violent than he usually is with a handful of shots in his system. No, the thing that makes you nervous is much worse.

Drunk ghost has absolutely zero filter with his words.

Sometimes, he says the meanest things. Telling you everything you've done that could have gotten yourself or someone else killed. Sometimes he tells you about his childhood. Sometimes...he's this.

"You know, I really do like you." He rumbles into his drink, making you wince. Ghost is looking at you with the same eyes he uses to assess a threat, intense and dark, though you know he isn't taking in much "i really like you. I'd probably marry you, if we weren't soldiers."

You nod, glance at the rest of the team by the pool tables, and whisper "then why don't you act like it?"

Instead of answering, ghost lazily rolls his head and comments "my dad terrorized Ma for more than half her life. She almost killed me an' tommy."

You know this, ghost has told you the story before. It still makes your throat tighten in sympathy. Uncaring of your lack of response, ghost adds "....I think I'm scared of hurting you. I'm not a good person."

...oh. that's...that's new.

"...you already hurt me, ghost. You cut me." You huff, avoiding the way his eyes snap to you, sudden and bright.

"What?" He reaches for you, but doesn't touch.

You turn your words over in your mouth, smooth them with your tongue. You think about telling him how agonizing it is hearing all his love confessions and knowing all his pain, when sober ghost refuses to even look at you most days. Your reluctance cuts me, you want to say. Instead, you admit "I like you too. It hurts not getting what I want."

"....you're a liability." Ghost says. Ah, seems like your words sobered him up. "I can't...I can hardly focus on missions with you. If...if price made me choose you or the objective....I'm not sure I'd make the right choice."

You drain the rest of your drink, and stand shakily. Ghost stands too, shocked by your sudden departure. You give him a look you're sure his sober self won't recognize "when will I be the right choice?"

You leave before ghost can answer. Neither of you talk about it the next day.