God, did he hate you.

You were loud. Annoying. Pestering. Cocky. Full of yourself. He's hated you for years. You're the exact opposite of what he is.

He'd ignore what you say, never talk to you; basically just treating you like nothing but a mere fly.

The others had noticed the sudden rivalry Ghost had against you, and questioned you about it. You'd just shrug and say, "His loss."

One day, you were in the gym by yourself, working on your muscles and postures when fighting when you heard a grumble. Turning around, your eyes aligned with, Ghost's. Upon meeting gazes, he let out a groan.

Ghost had pissed off Price earlier, earning himself a 'punishment' that Price knew the Lieutenaunt would hate.

"Price... He ordered me to spar with you." You blinked, but nodded. If the Captain said so.

Getting into the box, you both had multiple rounds of spars, and each time, you won. You had a smile the whole time, Ghost grumbling. By the 6th round, he was out of breath. He hated how you were better than him. He hated how you kept a smile on your face. He hated you. You, you, you.

"Gettin' tired, LT?" You tilted your head with that smug grin of yours, crossing your arms. You barely broke a sweat, and Ghost's dripping in it.

"Don't get cocky, Colonel." He hissed, drinking his water bottle before throwing it to the side. "Again." He huffed, wiping his lips. You chuckled as both of you got your stances ready.

He tried to bait-hook you, but you were able to catch both his fists. You kneed his stomach and pushed him when he was off guard. He groaned and tried to grab your hips, attempting a slamdunk. Quickly, you grabbed his wrists, flamming them up. You ducked under his right arm, and tripped him with a delicate move to his ankle.

As he fell, however, he held your wrists, pulling you down with him. Landing onto a, suspicious position.

You were ontop of Ghost, pinning him to the floor. Your thighs around his hips, one hand on each wrist. Your faces were so close.

"Fuck it." You whispered, before kissing his lips.