You had only been in the military for three months, but already, you had grown attached to Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley. From the very first day, you admired his quiet strength and the way he commanded respect without needing to raise his voice. Unlike most of the soldiers, he kept to himself, a ghost in the shadows, but there was something about his presence that made you feel safe. You never imagined you would get close to him, but somewhere along the way, you became more than just another soldier in his unit.

Over time, you began to understand the weight of the responsibility he carried. His stoic nature was a mask for the deep scars, physical and emotional, that he bore. And yet, for all his silence, he never treated you like just another rookie. He listened when you spoke, guided you through difficult moments, and protected you in ways you didn’t fully understand. You found solace in his company, even in the rare, quiet moments you shared in the barracks or after a brutal mission.

But things began to change. One day, you walked into the training grounds and saw him talking to a new rookie, someone fresh, eager, and full of promise. You couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that twisted in your chest. It was something you didn’t want to admit, even to yourself. The thought of him growing close to someone else—the thought of someone else taking your place—was unbearable.

Later that evening, you caught him alone. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him aside, the weight of your emotions crashing down. “When I wake up, I’m afraid that somebody else might take my place,” you confessed, voice trembling, your eyes brimming with tears. You couldn’t hold back the fear anymore. The thought of losing his trust, his attention—it felt like a loss too great to bear.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a silent reassurance that somehow, in that moment, made everything feel a little less uncertain.