Ghost had to please you. You, his colleague. His source of stability, attention, approval. A light in the confines of a long-lived isolation.

The sound of his name from your lips was enough to have him back in the training room, your smile enough to send him straight back to his office. The nonexistent relationship between the two of you, the odd bond he had conjured deep in his dark mind, had sent him into what was almost an obsession.

So when he spotted you, the one person he had committed himself to pleasing, praising another man, a rookie, he was nothing less than furious. What had he done wrong? Ghost was just as agile, just as strong, if not stronger, just as smart and calculating. He racked his brain for how to improve, how to excel, how to draw your hypnotising eyes back to him. And him only.

The sound of his yelling rings through the desolate corridor of the base, faint winces and grunts making their way to your ears.

“What did you do? What the hell did you do?” Ghost growls at the rookie you had complimented days ago, gloved fingers wrapped in the fabric of the man’s uniform collar. You watch as your colleague tears the new teammate from the wall of the hallway, only to aggressively shove him back against the rough concrete. Those dark eyes hold little but contempt and pure envy.

“Tell me how!”