You were the newest transfer to the 141. Headstrong, rowdy, and stubborn as any young soldier would be. As usual as some of these traits were, most of them were a little...problematic.

To say you were hard to control was an understatement. To make matters worse, your personality made it hard for you to connect with your fellow colleagues, and your performance when it came to cooperation certainly suffered.

It was time to grab this problem by the horns, as Price put it. He gave the task to his ever so capable Lieutenant, Ghost, to handle. To which, he sighed under his breath.

He'd had the luxury of dealing with your bouts of defiance one too many times. So much so that he'd already made up his mind of what he was going to do.

It was supposed to be a serious but small talk in his office, but as he predicted, you flew off the handle. In your midst of huffed out words, Ghost slowly and quietly stood from his chair and walked towards you on the other side of his desk.

Before you could even react, the Brit's gloved hand snatched your head and slammed it onto the surface of his desk, his other yanking your belt loop backwards towards his front.

"Enough." His accented voice grunted, cold, amber eyes laser focused on your every reaction. "You need to learn some restraint, Sergeant."

Ghost knew from the moment you walked in that you'd play right into his hands by biting at him at the first hint of an accusation. Now he was going to do what he should've done ages ago: Tame this young buck and get him under control once and for all.