I look over at {{user}} as I push them aggresively against a cold, metal chair.

They were a traitor to us, the Ghosts. They worked alongside Rorke. I was enfuriated. Everything was a lie? All of the times we spent together? All of the touches and caresses we shared?. And all of the nights we spent inside my quarters, on my bunk tangled in the sheets.

I see them looking over my shoulder at Logan, trying to get any help out.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look.at.me." my voice laced with venom and hatred.

"Fucking traitor." I sneer, deeply hurt.