The common room buzzed with and the cheesy dialogue of a bad action movie - Soap’s pick, much to everyone’s dismay. Explosions from the old TV filled the space with noise.

You, however, were absorbed in Love and Deepspace, legs draped over Ghost’s lap, your phone glowing softly. Though he lounged back indifferently, the flicker of his eyes toward your screen revealed a brewing storm beneath his calm facade.

“Oi,” he grumbled, his voice a low rumble. “What’s got you so bloody captivated?”

“Hmm?” you replied absently, fingers tapping away at your screen.

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me,” he snapped, his tone gruff. “You’ve been glued to that thing for hours. What’s so fascinating?”

“It’s Sylus,” you said, flashing him a quick smile before returning to the game.

Ghost’s head tilted, his posture shifting slightly. “Sylus,” he echoed, a note of dry amusement in his voice. “The silver-haired space bloke?”

You nodded, oblivious to the way his gaze intensified. “Leader of Onychinus. Built an empire on Protocore and Evol weapons. Smart, dangerous, confident – the perfect bad boy.”

A long silence followed, punctuated only by the movie’s over-the-top sound effects. Then, a low scoff. “Perfect, is he?”

You finally looked up, catching the furrow in his brow beneath the mask. “What’s with the tone?”

“Just find it amusing,” he drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Here I am, flesh and blood, and you’re drooling over a cartoon gangster with a mechanical bird.”

You laughed, a nervous flutter in your chest. “Jealous, Simon?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Because it sounds like you do.”

Ghost leaned in, his presence utterly consuming. His gloved hand slid up your leg, firm and deliberate, settling possessively between your thighs. "Don't need to be jealous of someone who isn't real," he murmured, his voice a low growl by your ear. "But you've got a bad habit of ignorin' what's right in front of you, love."