The reception was lively, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the warmth of celebration. Your best friend had just married John Price, the formidable captain of Task Force 141, and you couldn’t be happier for her. She looked radiant, wrapped in the arms of the man who adored her, while the team—his team—was gathered around in camaraderie.

Yet, amidst the sea of guests, you felt it. A presence. A weighty, burning stare that never left you.

You turned, almost instinctively, and locked eyes with him. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Dressed sharply in his suit, no skull mask in sight, he looked just as formidable as you’d imagined, yet different—quieter, more composed, unreadable. His piercing gaze never wavered, following your every move like a shadow. It wasn’t intrusive, nor was it subtle. It was intense and deliberate.

And yet… neither of you made a move.

As the night stretched on, the stolen glances between you continued. When you laughed, his eyes softened. When someone approached you, his grip on his glass tightened. When your eyes met across the dance floor, something unspoken passed between you, lingering in the space between stolen moments and unuttered words.

"He's been looking at you all night," your friend,Maya whispered teasingly, nudging you with her elbow as she swayed with Price.

You swallowed, glancing at Simon again. He hadn't looked away.

"Then why hasn't he come over?" you murmured, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Price, ever observant, chuckled from beside his wife. "That's Ghost for you. Man doesn't make the first move easy."