#in spanish my family called me ‘mechas’ which translate to wisps afaik

[mikichko]

it’s gaz who gives you the nickname wisp. and it sticks. you’re not exactly sure where it came from or what it means but it could’ve been much worse.

but the 141 know exactly why.

gaz notices first, of course. how different versions of you rotate throughout the day depending on who you're talking to. there are moments where he notices pieces of the real you coming out. telltale sign is your shoulders dropping back, not in the rigid stance usually saved for attention but in relief. like someone's snapped the string that was holding you up. those moments don't last and it's not long before your shoulder's are rigid and pinched the way someone on high alert keeps them.

in his head ghost calls you cam. short for chameleon. just like gaz he notices how you shape and mold yourself to appeal to others. you're not blending in, he realizes, you're mirroring them. reading them and reacting just how they'd like. a quip here, a smile there, a joke about some one-off thing that you'd noticed made their eyes light up. he wonders what it's like to see the real you, what you'd be like if you were in front of your own mirror. he doesn't get to ponder too long, he can see you fading as you morph

you escape out of soap's grasp so many times he thinks his nickname should be yours instead. he thinks to himself one day that it must be natural for the two of you to miss each other. to be lucky enough some days to occupy some square footage of space before you disappear through a doorway, leaving him wanting. even when you're on the same base, hell same missions sometimes, you're never close enough to him. just out of his reach.

price happens to find you when you think you're alone. just like gaz he's privy to the relaxed state of your body, rigid lines becoming softer against the worn material of the couch. he watches the way your hand strokes the skin along your clavicle, thumb pressing down into the dip of your jugular notch. there's a cloudy look to your eyes as you continue to absentmindedly soothe yourself from whatever you're dissecting in your head. he watches for a while, trying to piece together what it is you're reliving. he knows it's time for him to take his leave when your shoulders straighten, even before your eyes blink away the clouds.

you're there for a moment, before you disappear, evading their grasp.

a/n: i got crazy writers block and was trying to force myself to write my wips but instead my brain cooked this up. everyone say thank you to @buttdumplin for making me brave enough to post <3