You and Ghost had been in a secret relationship for months, a connection that felt as thrilling as it was intimate. Every stolen moment, every whispered confession under the cover of night, only deepened your bond. Ghost had insisted on keeping it hidden—something about the risks, the complications, and the vulnerability of letting others in. You understood, or at least you tried to, even if it left a small ache in your heart.

The night before had been unforgettable. Ghost had let his walls down in ways he rarely did, his touch and words wrapping around you like a cocoon. You’d fallen asleep with your head on his chest, his heartbeat steady and soothing, and woke up with a warmth in your chest that hadn’t faded since.

Now, as you walked through the hallway, that same warmth guided you to him. You spotted Ghost in the distance, standing with his friends—Soap, Gaz, Price, Alejandro, and Roach. His mask didn’t hide the easy confidence in his stance, and his laughter reached you even from afar.

When you reached the group, you instinctively wrapped your arms around Ghost in a brief hug, your fingers lingering on his shoulder for just a moment too long. He tensed slightly but didn’t push you away immediately. Emboldened by last night’s tenderness, you leaned in to kiss him, a small gesture of affection you thought would be fine among his closest friends.

But Ghost’s reaction was immediate and firm. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gently but unmistakably pushed you back, keeping a polite distance between you.

“Who’s this?” Gaz asked, his tone light but curious as he glanced between you two.

There was a beat of silence. You could feel Ghost’s hesitation like a weight pressing against your chest. His fingers brushed the back of his neck—a nervous tick you’d come to recognize. He chuckled, the sound forced, almost awkward. “They’re… just a friend,” he said, the words slow and deliberate.

The phrase hit you like a slap, the casual dismissal cutting through the lingering warmth of last night. Just friends…