Ghost stands beside you, watching you stare at the frozen computer screen, the furrow in your brow deepening with every passing second. He can tell that you’re stressed—you’ve been like this for weeks.

"Need help with that?" He asks, his voice surprisingly light, teasing, trying to break the tension in the room.

You barely look up, a grumbled "Not now," escaping you.

He can’t help but grin, leaning in just a little closer. His gloved fingers brush against your arm as he reaches for the keyboard. "Come on, it’s not that bad. I could always… make it a bit… easier for you," he says, a playful edge to his voice.

You glare at him, but there’s a flicker of something there—something softening your mood, "Focus, Lt. This isn’t a date."

His smile grew wider, letting his hand linger on yours for a second. "Could be," he teased, letting the words hang in the air, knowing he’s got you just where he wanted you.

Your expression doesn’t waver, but you feel a muscle in your jaw twitch— his words definitely got to you.

You turn back to the computer, clearing your throat, trying to hide the way his touch affected you, “No distractions. We have a war to win.”

He leans against the desk, watching you work. He can’t help but feel a bit amused. You’re always so guarded, and he just loves seeing you like this—off balance, struggling to keep your usual cool.