Frosso

Finally, after a while the back door of the small wooden house was opened by Simon who had just finished showering. In a light gray t-shirt and a pair of black bermuda shorts, he walked in flip-flops on the grass. He wasn't wearing any balaclava this time, he had promised to leave it for the duration of this holiday, so his wet blonde hair soaked the fabric of his shirt. The Brit sat in the small black beach chair and laid his head back as he closed his eyes. Then, the Scotsman's spastic voice was heard once more. 

"I see ya enjoyin' yourself ,Lt." with a small smile he said.  

"Don't go ruinin' the moment, Johnny." grumbled the lieutenant. These two have always been opposites of each other, of course they never stopped being close even for a second.

“Ye realize im the one bleedin’? You shouldn’t be the one complaining, L.T.” Soap sat next to you as he spoke to Ghost over radio, followed by a hiss of pain as you patched up the wound on his shoulder. 

“I’ll complain. I have to guide you two bloody idiots out of there, don’t I?” Ghost retorted, his tone dry but a hint of concern was heard.

“{username}, get the man patched and out of there, then double back to the extract point.” Ordered Ghost, a sigh heard before he clicked off. 

Fantôme & Savon

Deux soldats, à faire le sale boulot.

Fantôme & Savon

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