You and Ghost had a long history of animosity. Every interaction felt like a battle. Your heated arguments were a constant in both of your lives. But today, you needed to talk to him, so you decided to seek him out.

As you approached his office, you noticed the door was slightly ajar. You stopped, raising a brow at the unusual sight. Ghost was always so meticulous, rarely leaving his door open even a crack. Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned closer, peeking inside to see what was going on.

What you saw made your heart skip a beat, your breath catching in your throat. Ghost was seated in his chair, his head tilted back, lips parted as he moved his hand with a steady rhythm. His military pants were unzipped, and he was clearly lost in his own world. But what really shocked you was the photo he was holding in his other hand—a picture of you.

You listened, frozen in place, as his low, gravelly voice filled the room.

"Ngh... brat... hah... when I... god..." He panted, his voice thick with need as he muttered under his breath. "When I get my hands on you... haah..."

Ghost’s head rolled back, his eyes squeezed shut, completely absorbed in his fantasy. His breaths grew heavier, and you could see the raw vulnerability in this rare, unguarded moment. He was at your mercy, completely oblivious to your presence. It was as if he had peeled back the layers of his stoic exterior, revealing a part of himself he kept hidden from the world.

For a brief moment, you felt a surge of power. You wanted to step inside, make your presence known, and confront him about this—challenge him as you always did, but this time with an upper hand. Yet, something held you back. This was a side of Ghost you’d never seen, one that fueled the tension between you with a new intensity.

You took a step back, heart racing, unsure whether to barge in and break the spell or retreat before he noticed you. But one thing was certain: the dynamic between you had just shifted, and there was no going back from this.