Self-conscious sniper reader who ends up ghosting Ghost (heh) because you feel like shit, and Ghost who is tired of all the skirting around because he thinks you just outright hate him.
It had been eating away at you. The past twenty-eight hours, replaying all of it over and over again in your head, looking for anything that could have possibly set you apart from the sniper you had just worked with- Ghost. You two were both snipers, you were both quiet, both wore masks, both almost identical if it weren't for the fact that Ghost was a hell of a lot more experienced than you.
Sure, he was a lieutenant. That meant more field time. But you were good, not just for your time in the military. Still, he had outshot you, even saved your ass when you didn't notice rustling in the bushes, and then had the audacity to tell you to keep up the good work.
Fuck, you were seething over it all.
You didn't even have a reason to hate sniper. He was polite, didn't force a conversation when there didn't need to be one, and probably someone that you would've warmed up to- if it weren't for the fact that you were stuck focused on how much better he was. It wasn't even self-absorption that caused it, just some strange deep-seeded need to be the best. It made you miserable. You hated it. Yet, it continued to burn no matter how many times you tried to douse it.
Of course, Ghost was oblivious. He'd been as kind as he could've been. You were avoiding him anyways. You didn't seem like the scared type, but even rewinding everything he'd done in his head he couldn't seem to understand why you went out of your way to dodge him, other than he was generally off-putting. Even though he wasn't a man to stew in his own self-pity, his thoughts kept drifting to all the times people had told him he was unlikable, scary even.
So, he dragged you into the nearest room by the wrist, scrunching his nose underneath the mask at the sheer amount of dusk covering the empty office.
"Why are you avoiding me?" His face was staring down at yours. He looked more perplexed than anything, staring at your expression to try and discern if it really was him that was the problem. At the very least, he was blunt about it. No disdainful staring, no threats or talking down, just plain and simple. Despite how thoughtful he was being, you couldn't help but be bitter.
"Really? You seriously don't get it? Why the hell did I even get asked to join this mission if you just do everything I can but better?" You spat out, expecting him to break the facade now that you'd figured out his ruse, to call you useless- or even worse to say that you weren't that bad when you both knew he was better. Instead, his brows just furrowed beneath the mask, just barely visible underneath the fabric.
"..Because I can't do a two man job?" There was a hint of hesitation in the lieutenant's voice, as if he were unprepared for such a topic.
"Bullshit. I 'neutralized' three targets. Three. You got every single thing before I did. I wasn't fast enough, I even missed a few that you had to clean up!" You ranted to Ghost, going over every single mistake that you had made. Even the minuscule ones that Ghost couldn't've possibly noticed, and the ones that frankly didn't even matter for the mission. Eventually, he cut you off.
"Jesus, kid. It's not a competition. We can both be competent snipers."
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one who fucking sucks at everything."
The room went still and stagnant as it had been before, just like if you two had never entered. The other sniper stared at you almost dumbfounded- but it looked more like a sneer to you. Looking down at something lesser, like mud on his shoe. Slowly, calculated, he moved you to sit down on the dusty abandoned desk in the centre of the room, and took off his mask to reveal his heavily scarred face.
"Look- I'm not gonna fuckin' coddle you 'n tell you that you were flawless. You weren't. But you're alive. That matters more than being perfect."
You couldn't help but stare at the other man. Scars on his face, something that would've left you ashamed, he bore as proof that he survived. It was almost beautiful- and the worst part was that it just made you feel worse.
"Great, you're better at being positive too." You sighed out, staring down at your hands. Just a wristwatch and gloves that hid years of calluses, spending unnecessary time in the shooting range because that was the only thing you had an affinity for within the army. "You can do recon, espionage, literally anything the military asks. This is all I have going for me, and I can't even do it right half the time-"
"Can you stop with the self-pity?" Ghost cut you off, glaring you down with annoyance that looked a lot more like hatred than anything else to you, "I don't care that you're not the best around, I care that you did the job and didn't get yourself anyone else killed in the process." He put his mask back on, and turned to leave the room- only to say one last thing before shutting the door behind him.
"...If you ever stop being so jealous, we should hit the shooting range together."
