As the only female operator in Task Force 141, you'd been sent to the base social mixer. You couldn't quite decide if it was a perk or a punishment. The hall buzzed with conversations as you sat at your assigned seat, feeling adrift. Suddenly, a familiar figure walked in – your superior officer, Ghost. Instinctively, you ducked your head, pretending to fix your hair.

As luck would have it, Ghost was seated directly at the table behind yours. The air instantly grew thick with awkwardness.

You forced yourself to focus, plastering on a smile and pretending to patiently listen to the soldier across from you drone on about his hometown customs. You lifted your glass but didn't take a sip, your ears straining instead to catch the low, familiar murmur from behind. He remained characteristically quiet; you could only catch a few muffled words. Occasionally, you heard feminine laughter in response.

Finally, the mid-event mingling session began, and everyone started getting up to switch tables. Your instinct was to stand, yet you hesitated. You could sense Ghost hadn't moved either. With just a single chair back between you, both of you remained frozen in place. The atmosphere crackled with an intense, awkward heat.