The hum of the overhead lights buzzed softly as you scribbled notes on a clipboard, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. The base was quiet now, most of the team out for training drills or already turned in. You didn’t mind the silence—it gave you peace. That was, until he walked in.

Heavy boots echoed on the metal floor. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. You’d memorized that sound long ago, back when you used to wait for it in school hallways, heart racing with anticipation.

Simon “Ghost” Riley stood in the doorway, his mask on, shadowed eyes locked on you like he was battling himself just to speak.

“I told you I’m fine,” he said gruffly, his voice lower than usual.

You didn’t flinch. “You were bleeding, Lieutenant. Sit.”

He hesitated for a second before slowly walking over and sitting on the exam bed, the leather creaking under his weight. You took your time—measured steps, measured breath. Two weeks of dancing around him, pretending the tension didn’t coil like wire between you.

You moved closer, lifting his sleeve to check the bandage. Your fingers brushed his skin.

His breath hitched.

“Still doesn’t give you the right to ignore protocol,” you said quietly, focused on your work.

He didn’t answer at first. Just sat there. Watching. Wanting.

Then: “Why did you come here?”

You paused, eyes lifting to meet his. “You think I knew you were part of 141?”

Silence stretched.

“I didn’t expect to see you again, Simon,” you added, voice lower now. “Not after the way you left.”

His jaw tensed beneath the mask. “I had to. You wouldn’t have let me go otherwise.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye.” The anger you’d buried started to rise. “Just ‘let’s break up’ and that was it? After everything?”

He stood suddenly. Towering over you. “You think it was easy for me? Leaving you? I joined the bloody military to protect people like you. I couldn’t take you with me.”

“I never asked you to!”

Your words hung in the air like smoke.