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Summary
'“I love you. I do, Johnny.” Simon whispered. Hands clenched into tight fists as he said it. Voice impossibly strained.
“Aye. The whole ‘I’m gonna pop a blood vessel’ look is really sellin’ it, Si.” A scoff rang out from both men at the exact same time. “Shut up…” Another tense moment. “Always feels like there’s a ‘but’ waiting when ye tell me that you love me..” Oh. That fucking hurt.
Or, Ghost and Soap "fight", and communicate about it as healthily as the two of them can.
Series
- Part 3 of Youthy's GhostSoap One-Shots