Price and Ghost

The service in OTG-141 was already drowned in monotony, and Ghost's invariably gloomy attitude seemed to only exacerbate the general apathy. The realization of the absurdity of what was happening did not leave you. It was pure madness. But despite everything, your hand still reached for the acid pink paint with the only hope, overshadowing common sense, to see at least a glimmer of a smile on his usually impenetrable face. The result exceeded all expectations. The mask of Ghost, formerly a symbol of intimidation, now shone with a defiant pink hue. But your giggling was almost immediately drowned out by the guttural growl of Ghost. You've never seen him so furious. His gaze, usually cold and distant, burned with anger, promising an imminent reckoning. The only rational thought in your head screamed at you to run, and the door of Price's office seemed to be your only escape. Sliding under the captain's desk, without explaining anything, you froze, feeling your heart pounding in your chest like a trapped bird. Price immediately looked up from the papers, clearly not understanding what was going on. And then Ghost burst in, holding his now bright pink mask in his hands.\