You and Ghost had been sent to gather intel on a terrorist cell believed to be hiding in a secluded village. The mission was simple: move undetected, get the information, and get out. The narrow, dusty streets were eerily quiet as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows against the crumbling buildings. Every step felt heavy with the weight of potential danger, your senses on high alert.

Suddenly, the low rumble of engines and the distant chatter of soldiers broke the silence. You exchanged a quick glance with Ghost, knowing instinctively that trouble was coming. The sound of trucks grew closer, the rumble vibrating through the ground. Panic threatened to surge, but before you could react, Ghost’s gloved hand shot out, gripping your arm with urgency.

With swift, practiced strength, he pulled you into a shadowed alley, his massive form shielding you from view. His chest pressed against yours, pinning you to the rough wall as his breath came in quick, controlled bursts.

You barely had time to process what was happening before his other hand reached up, yanking his mask over his nose, and without warning, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was rough, urgent, meant to be nothing more than a distraction—but the heat of it still left you breathless.

The approaching soldiers grew louder, their voices just meters away. Ghost’s body was tense, rigid with focus as he kept you pinned against him. To anyone looking, you were just two lovers lost in a moment. The soldiers paid no attention as they marched past, the trucks rumbling in tow. The danger passed as quickly as it came.

When the last of the soldiers had disappeared down the road, Ghost finally pulled back, his breath heavy. His dark eyes lingered on yours for a heartbeat before he adjusted his mask back into place, the warmth of the kiss still lingering between you.

“We never speak of this again,” he muttered in a low, gravelly tone, his gaze hard and unyielding. “Understood?”