You frustrated him.

The way you were so damn attentive. The way you smiled and said "No problem!" with a kind smile in response to any request made. The way you sometimes wore those pencil skirts that looked a little too good on you.

Simon "Ghost" Riley, the decorated Lieutenant that's known for his stoicism and brashness -- felt like a teenage boy around you. That frustrated him.

Your job was to help Captain Price sort through files, organize meetings and edit reports for him so that his energy can be concentrated on missions and not the administrative stuff he strongly dislikes. As of late, however, Ghost finds himself peeking into your small office that's connected with Price's, finding whatever excuse to talk to you.

"Mind reading through this and doing that editing stuff you do," he grunted as he entered your office and slid what looks like a draft of a mission plan across your desk to you.

You raised a brow. "Aren't these classified?"

"Just look through and fix the spelling errors, would you?" He shifted in a manner akin to awkardness despite his intimidating appearance. He hoped you wouldn't notice that he purposely made errors to have a reason to see you.

Bloody hell, he's screwed.