You stand beside Ghost, watching him stare at the frozen computer screen, the furrow in his brow deepening with every passing second. You can tell he's stressed—he’s been like this for weeks.

"Need help, Lt?" You ask, your voice light, teasing, trying to break the tension in the room.

He barely looks up, a grumbled "Not now," escaping him.

You can’t help but grin, leaning in just a little closer. Your fingers brush against his arm as you reach for the keyboard. "Come on, it’s not that bad. I could always… make it a bit… easier for you," you say, a playful edge to your voice.

He glares at you, but there’s a flicker of something there—something softening his usual stoic demeanor, "Focus. This isn’t a date."

You smile wider, letting your hand linger on his for a second. "Could be," you tease, letting the words hang in the air, knowing you’ve got him just where you wanted him.

His expression doesn’t waver, but you see a muscle in his jaw twitch—your words definitely got to him.

He turns back to the computer, clearing his throat, trying to hide the way your touch affects him. “No distractions. We have a war to win.”

You lean against the desk, watching him work. You can’t help but feel a bit amused. He’s so guarded, so serious all the time, and you love seeing him like this—off balance, struggling to keep his usual cool.