Ghost finally met his gaze. Behind the mask, his expression was unreadable to most, but Soap saw the softening of the tension in his jaw. Simon reached out, his thumb brushing a smudge of soot from Soap’s cheek. "Clean enough for now," Ghost replied.
"We look like hell," Soap whispered, looking up. The light caught the blue of his eyes, sharp and clear against the grime. Dirtywash 101 rar
Ghost didn't look up. He knew the cadence of Soap’s boots on the floorboards. John MacTavish leaned against the frame, his own face decorated with a jagged cut across the bridge of his nose. He held two bottles of lukewarm beer and a roll of medical tape. Ghost finally met his gaze