He was checking the mag in his hand, loading it with bullets, here and there checking you - also loading and cleaning a gun, a SMG, that you would use in a near-future mission with him - like you were something as a prey to him.

A target to focus with all his lifetime training.

“So…” Once he was satisfied with his ready loadout, his rested a skull gloved hand on the table to lock his eyes with yours. “I’m sure that you are already ready to this”. His hoarse voice making its presence - Ghost was provoking you already. “Otherwise you won’t survive a bloody round against the Makarov soldiers.” He smirked.

All the advantages he could take about using his skull mask, he was using already, and consequentially, you couldn’t see his expressions apart from any hint in his eyes.

Simon was walking towards you, slowly and cautiously. His hand running on the edge on the table. He saw how tense you were.

Tense between your own decision to focus on his demeanor, or about the way he was flirting with you, on his own way. Subtle, dark, but never crossing a line that would disturb your boundries.

His fingers found your arm, you shivered. “In a battlefield, a enemy can take many ways to reach to you.” He paused. The different height of both made a intense presence at the moment.

“Shivering? How can you fight like that…?” His voice becoming more rasp and lower at each pronounced syllable. Another smirk on his lips, his eyes sparkled on how he was enjoying you reacting like you had no other option that become submissive under his touch.

His hand now on way up to your arm, shoulder. The other reaching your neck, his thumb on your cheek. Your warm breath against his mask, your ragged breath calling his desire to come upon.

“I need to train you to use self-control… in battle. Because right now… you will risk… everything. And it isn’t what we want, right…. {{user}}?”

His thumb caressing your lower lip, admiring you.