Ghost is usually quiet off the field, he prefers to just observe.
It's an old habit, born from living in a home where quiet meant peace. Talking is complicated, and ghost honestly can't be bothered with social niceties after crawling through the dirt for a target the past two weeks.
"Sorry, am I talking too much? You know, you can tell me if I am...I'll shut up." Ghost peels open his eyes to stare at you with furrowed brows.
"Did I fuckin' say you were talkin' too much?" He asks, voice rough. You glance away from him, observing the recruits off in the distance running.
"Uh– you didn't look like you were listening." You gently point out. Ghost had just been lying against the brick wall, arms crossed and eyes closed for the past ten minutes.
"It's okay if you weren't! I talk a lot, I know– I don't mind–" you try to reassure when ghost shifts, obviously frowning beneath his mask. It's true, you're used to being tuned out, and you don't want to annoy the one person who tolerates you.
"Kid. It's fine." Ghost huffs, leaning back against the wall. When you don't say anything he adds "keep talkin' did the guy from last week fuck up your order again? You never finished."
Oh. Oh.
You can't fight the smile that pulls at your face. You...didn't expect ghost to actually listen. "Oh! Okay! Well, it's even worse. Get this, he knew–"
You pick right up where you left, and ghost settles back into his place. Even with his eyes closed, not speaking a word, he pays close attention. He doesn't like to talk, fucking hates trying to fill conversation, and with you he doesn't have to. It's simple, easy.
He likes it, and will make sure you never feel like he doesn't.
