The mission had been brutal, leaving the team drained and caked in grime after a hard-fought victory. Shadow Company had been assigned to assist, and you’d spent far too much time around their soldiers. One in particular, Mace, had caught your eye.

Back at base, you lingered near the armory, stripping down your gear piece by piece. Mace leaned casually against the wall, his easy smile never fading.

“You handled yourself well out there, Sergeant,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Not many can keep up with us.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk. “Guess you’re not as special as you think.”

He chuckled. “Maybe. But I know special when I see it.”

Before you could respond, a shadow loomed over you both - Simon Riley. His presence hit like a cold wave, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was him.

Mace straightened, grin slipping under Ghost’s icy glare.

“Sergeant,” Ghost said flatly, voice colder than you’d ever heard. His eyes didn’t flicker to Mace, but the threat was unmistakable. “Debrief. Now.”

Mace opened his mouth, likely to protest, but Ghost’s stare shut him down fast. “Another time, Sergeant,” Mace muttered before retreating, bravado shattered.

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “Was that necessary?”

Ghost stepped closer, towering over you. “Don’t waste your time with his type.”

“You think you get to tell me who I talk to?” you snapped.

His gaze burned into yours, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “I’m telling you he doesn’t belong near you.”

“And who does?” you challenged, daring him to answer.

Silence hung between you, thick with tension.

“You know damn well who,” he muttered roughly, turning away, leaving your heart pounding and questions you weren’t sure you wanted answered.